He suffers terribly all the time. He lives in fire.
You've obviously never been in love.I have actually. And . And—always—without hope—I've never had my love reciprocated ever.
He was glad that he had expressed to her, however blunderingly, what he felt. He was glad that he had held her hand.
I am, I must confess, an obsessive and superstitious letter-writer. When I am troubled I will write any long letter rather than make a telephone call. This is perhaps because I invest letters with mag...
It was her birthday. She thought, I am always unhappy on this day.
El sexo es un invento absurdo que a pesar de serlo no aspira más que hincharse y penetrar. Se supone que tiene algo que ver con el amor, por lo menos ésa es su leyenda, pero el amor es un mito estimul...
—La gente no suele saber aplicar la filosofía. Dudo de que ni siquiera los filósofos sepan hacerlo.—La gente puede usar conceptos morales lo mismo que tú has usado ahora el concepto de la verdad para...
I was now, all the time, unutterably tired as if simply keeping alive was a terrible effort.
What greater torment than to see that light, and then to see it eternally withdrawn?
The same virtues, in the end, the same virtue (love), are required throughout, and fantasy (self) can prevent us from seeing a blade of grass just as it can prevent us from seeing another person. An i...
But I live, I , with an absolutely continuous sense of failure. I am always defeated, always.
Love is the difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
He did not touch her but enjoyed the particular intimate pain of the tension between them.
A few people paused to look at him, but Londoners were by now so accustomed to 'weirdies' of all kinds that his ritual aroused little interest.
Mercifully one forgets one's love affairs as one forgets one's dreams.
I am in favour of illusion, not alienation... Drama must create a factitious spell-binding present moment and imprison the spectator in it. The theatre apes the profound truth that we are extended bei...
I crave for love, everybody does . . . and I've never had a bloody crumb of it—and I've given so much love to people—I can really love people, I can, I let them walk over me—but nobody's ever loved me...
Anywhere is dangerous if you carry danger with you.
I have nobody in the world. I'll kill myself. That's best. Everyone will say, It's for the best that she killed herself, she's better off dead . . . I hate myself so much I could spend hours and hours...
Jealousy is perhaps the most involuntary of all strong emotions. It steals consciousness, it lies deeper than thought. It is always there, like a blackness in the eye, it discolours the world.
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