Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.

Scott-there's nothing in the world I want but you-and your precious love. All the material things are nothing. I'd just hate to live in a sordid, colorless existence-because you'd soon love less-and less-and I'd do anything-anything-to keep your heart for my own-I don't want to live-I want to love first and live incidentally.

Other people's ideas of us are dependent largely on what they've hoped for.

Nobody has ever been able to experience what they have thoroughly understood - or understand what they have experienced until they have achieved a detachment that renders them incapable of repeating the experience.

I don't want to live. I want to love first, and live incidentally.

One illusion is as good as another.

Anything incomprehensible has a sexual significance to many people under thirty-five.