Most of my life I have needed more time to be on my own.

Charm is always genuine; it may be superficial but it isn't false.

Perfect love may cast our fear, but fear is remarkably potent in casting out love.

I wonder if childhood is ever really happy. Just as well, perhaps. To be blissfully happy so young would leave one always seeking to recapture the unobtainable. Like those people who were always happiest at school or university. Always going back. No reunion ever missed. It always seemed to me rather pathetic.

the unforgivable was usually the most easily forgiven.

I don't want anyone to look to me, not for protection, not for happiness, not for love, not for anything.

Youth goes caparisoned in immortality.