The writer who is a real writer is a rebel who never stops.
The mad also laugh, or is that what Freud and the others discovered perhaps, that only the mad laugh?
Be grateful for yourself...be thankful.
We didn't say anything because there was such an awful lot to say, and no language to say it in.
Of all the things I love to taste, sweetest is the kiss of love.
Sometimes the most intelligent thing is not to do anything, certainly nothing loaded with the imbecility of emotionality.