Finished things cease to be a shelter for the spirit; but work in progress is a delight.
Jealousy is the fear of comparison.
There is no art without Eros.
When we travel, we are like a film at the moment of exposure; it is memory that will develop it.
Perhaps there are only a few women who experience without deception the overwhelming intoxication of the senses which they expectfrom their encounters with men, which they feel bound to expect because of the fuss made about it in novels, written by men.
Either marriage is a destiny, I believe, or there is no sense in it at all, it's a piece of humbug.