It's wonderful to feel desired. There's a sense of power in it, really.

It has always been on the written page that the world has come into focus for me.

How small we humans are. All our scrambling around, trying to buttress ourselves against death. All our efforts to insulate ourselves against uncertainty with codes of behavior and meaningless busyness.

What did a person need to survive? Food. Water. Shelter. Warmth in cold weather. And something else... books.

I'm like the trunk of a cactus... I take in a dose of culture and time with friends, then I retreat and go live on it for awhile until I get thirsty again.

It's not good to live so much inside oneself. It's a self-imposed exile, really. It makes you different.

Don't you see what's happened? You wanted to be in love again. To feel that feeling where a man you hardly know gazes into your eyes and seems to be the only human being who ever understood the real you.