I longed to know the world's name.
If something takes too long, something happens to you. You become all and only the thing you want and nothing else, for you have paid too much for it, too much in wanting and too much in waiting and too much in getting.
It is human defect — to try to know oneself by the self of another.
Real writers are those who want to write, need to write, have to write.
...a man does not die for words. He dies for his relation to them.
That summer we had been absolutely alone, together, even when people were around, the only inhabitants of the kind of floating island or magic carpet which being in love is.