As a child, I thought I hated everybody, but when I grew up I realized it was just children I didn't like.
A writer can have only one language, if language is going to mean anything to him.
They say eyes clear with age.
Sex means nothing--just the moment of ecstasy, that flares and dies in minutes.
I think writing about unhappiness is probably the source of my popularity, if I have any - after all, most people are unhappy, don't you think?
The way the moon dashes through clouds that blow Loosely as cannon-smoke... Is a reminder of the strength and pain Of being young; that it can't come again, But is for others undiminished somewhere.