She always harboured my criticism: it was only praise that slid from her like the snow.
Perhaps we were looking strained in our manner, because I noticed we had attracted the attention of a little man who sat on a sofa not far off. I tried to outstare him and that was easy. He had a long...
Perhaps all life was like that--dull and then a heroic flurry at the end.
I wish sometimes you had a few bad motives, you might understand a little more about human beings.
I recognized my work for what it was--as unimportant a drug as cigarettes to get one through the weeks and years. If we are extinguished by death, as I still try to believe, what point is there in lea...
I know he is afraid of that desert which would be around him if our love were to end, but he can't realize that I feel exactly the same. What he says aloud I say to myself silently and write it here....
I had to touch you with my hands, I had to taste you with my tongue; one can't love and do nothing.
If I stopped loving Him, I would cease to believe in His love. If I loved God, then I would believe in His love for me. It's not enough to need it. We have to love first, and I don't know how. But I n...
You kill a man – that is so easy,’ Dr Hasselbacher said, ‘it needs no skill. You can be certain of what you’ve done, you can judge death, but to save a man – that takes more than six years of training...
You cannot control what you love--you watch it driving recklessly towards the broken bridge, the torn-up track, the horror of seventy years ahead.
With goodness one can feel secure; why wasn’t I satisfied with goodness, why did I always ask her the wrong questions?
Who could blame her for seeking my scars in return? When we are unhappy we hurt.
What makes a man, without hope, cling to a few more minutes of existence?
We can love with our minds, but can we love only with our minds? Love extends itself all the time, so that we can love even with our senseless nails: we love even with our clothes, so that a sleeve ca...
To be in love is to see yourself as someone else sees you, it is to be in love with the falsified and exalted image of yourself. In love we are incapable of honour - the courageous act is no more than...
This was hell then; it wasn't anything to worry about: it was just his own familiar room.
St. Augustine asked where time came from. He said it came out of the future which didn't exist yet, into the present that had no duration, and went into the past which had ceased to exist.
Sometimes I see myself reflected too closely in other men for comfort, and then I have an enormous wish to believe in the saints, in heroic virtue.
She was proud of her power of prophecy, though she had not yet lived to see any of her prophecies fulfilled.
She had often disconcerted me by the truth. In the days when we were in love, I would try to get her to say more than the truth—that our affair would never end, that one day we should marry. I wouldn’...