I do not want to choose which one of you I must love or hate. Here, I am free to do neither. I want no part of your bitterness.

Only yesterday a young woman came to me wanting a trap set for a man with a sweet smile and lithe arms. She was a fool, not for wanting him, but for wanting more of him than that.

Love and anger are like land and sea: They meet at many different places.

Imagination is best fed by reality, an odd diet for something nonexistent there are few details of daily life and its broad range of emotional context that can't be transformed into food for the imagination.

...that once were urgent and necessary for an orderly world and now were buried away, gathering dust and of no use to anyone.

Words, he decided, were inadequate at best, impossible at worst. They meant too many things. Or they meant nothing at all.

Content, it dreams awake, and spins the fabric of tales. There is really nothing to be done with such imagery except to use it: in writing, in art.