Pronunciation has made many an innocent word sound like a doctor's orders for a stomach pump.

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

It's terrible to allow conventional habits to gain a hold on a whole household; to eat, sleep and live by clock ticks.

It is the loose ends with which men hang themselves.

I take a sun bath and listen to the hours, formulating, and disintegrating under the pines, and smell the resiny hardihood of the high noon hours. The world is lost in a blue haze of distances, and the immediate sleeps in a thin and finite sun.

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

Death is the only real elegance.