One never took the time to savour the details; one said: another day, but always with the hidden knowledge that each day was unique and fatal, that there never would be a return, another time.

The sky hides the night behind it and shelters the people beneath from the horror that lies above.

If you don't know why you like a thing, it is usually worth your while to attempt to find out.

There is a way to master silence Control its curves, inhabit its dark corners And listen to the hiss of time outside

It's very hard to write about that which is always beautiful and pleasant and good. You don't get anywhere with it. There's no friction in it. There's no trouble. You have to have trouble. Somebody's got to get in trouble, or no one wants to read it.

That was what he wanted, to be baked dry and hard, to feel the vaporous worries evaporating one by one, to know finally that all the damp little doubts and hesitations that covered the floor of his being were curling up and expiring in the great furnace-blast of the sun.

Security is a false God. Begin to make sacrifices to it and you are lost.