Is there no way out of the mind?

I have let things slip, a thirty-year~old cargo boat Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.

Miracles occur, If you dare to call those spasmodic Tricks of radiance miracles. The wait's begun again, The long wait for the angel, For that rare, random descent.

And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness

I think writers are the most narcissistic people. Well, I musn't say this, I like many of them, a great many of my friends are writers.

Apparently, the most difficult feat for a Cambridge male is to accept a woman not merely as feeling, not merely as thinking, but as managing a complex, vital interweaving of both.

Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: 'I'll go take a hot bath.