Go out and do something. It isn’t your room that’s a prison, it’s yourself.

I didn't really see why people should look at me. Plenty of people looked queerer than I did.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.

The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.

I never feel so much myself as when I'm in a hot bath.

You ask me why I spend my life writing? Do I find entertainment? Is it worthwhile? Above all, does it pay? If not, then, is there a reason?... I write only because there is a voice within me. That will not be still.

I drink sherry and wine by myself because I like it and I get the sensuous feeling of indulgence...luxury, bliss, erotic-tinged.