A big enough artist, I say, can eat anything, must eat everything and then alchemize it. Only the feeble writer is afraid of expansion.
Anaïs, I could stay here all night writing you. I see you before me constantly, with your head down and your long lashes lying on your cheeks. And I feel very humble.
As June walked toward me from the darkness of the garden into the light of the door, I saw for the first time the most beautiful woman on earth. Astartling white face, burning dark eyes, a face so ali...
I am more interested in human beings than in writing, more interested in lovemaking than in writing, more interested in living than in writing. More interested in becoming a work of art than in creati...
I awoke at dawn, thrown up on a rock, the skeleton of a ship choked in its own sails.
I guess I am disturbed only because so little strains through the meshes and I am thinking in such violent floods.
I like to live always at the beginnings of life, not at their end. We all lose some of our faith under the oppression of mad leaders, insane history, pathologic cruelties of daily life. I am by nature...
I want to fall in love in such a way that the mere sight of a man, even a block away from me, will shake and pierce me, will weaken me, and make me tremble and soften and melt.
I want to make my own discoveries…….penetrate the evil which attracts me
It is easy to love and there are so many ways to do it.
Lillian did not know then that the one who believes he can pay this early debt meets a bottomless well. Because the first denial has set off a fatality of revenge which no amount of giving can placate...
Our love would be death. The embrace of imaginings.
Slowly what she composed with the new day was her own focus, to bring together body and mind. This was made with an effort, as if all the dissolutions and dispersions of her self the night before were...
Talk—half-talk, phrases that had no need to be finished, abstractions, Chinese bells played on with cotton-tipped sticks, mock orange blossoms painted on porcelain. The muffled, close, half-talk of so...
الحياة الاعتيادية لا تروق لي، إنني أتوق إلى اللحظات الخارقة كما السورياليين في نشدانهم الغرابة.
The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.
Anxiety is love's greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic.
There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cel...
When you make a world tolerable for yourself you make a world tolerable for others.
He has, like me, a sense of smell. I let him inhale me, then I slip away.
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