There are only three things to be done with a woman’ said Clea once. ‘You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.
La culpa se apresura siempre hacia su complemento, el castigo, y sólo allí encuentra satisfacción.
Its women shall be the voluptuaries not of pleasure but of pain, doomed to hunt for what they least dare to find.
The desire to be near the beloved object is at first not due to the idea of possessing it, but simply to let the two experiences compare themselves, like reflections in different mirrors... For from h...
And all at once it seemed that past and present had joined again without any divisions in it, and that all my memories and impressions had ordered themselves into one complete pattern whose metaphor w...
We were like mourners at an invisible cenotaph during the two minutes’ silence which commemorates an irremediable failure of the human will.
There are two positions available to us – either crime which renders us happy, or the noose, which prevents us from being unhappy.
Sorrow is implicit in love as gravitation is implicit in mass.
Some characters in the world are marked down for self-destruction, and to these no amount of rational argument can appeal.
Science is the poetry of the intellect and poetry the science of the heart's affections.
We live writes Pursewarden somewhere, lives based upon selected fictions. Our view of reality is conditioned by our position in space and time - not by our personalities as we like to think. Thus ever...
There are some characters in this world who are marked down for self-destruction, and to these no amount of rational argument can appeal. For my part Justine always reminded me of a somnambulist disco...
The steward, according to custom, had stopped all the clocks. This, in the language of Narouz, said, Your stay with us is so brief, let us not be reminded of the flight of the hours. God made eternity...
The oranges were more plentiful than usual that year. They glowed in their arbours of burnished green leaf like lanterns, flickering up there among the sunny woods. It was as if they were eager to cel...
Slowly the bluish spring moon climbs the houses, sliding up the minarets into the clicking palm-trees, and with it the city seems to uncurl like some hibernating animal dug out of its winter earth, to...
In her there was a pliancy, a resilience which was Oriental — a passion to serve.
Words are the mirrors of our discontents merely; they contain all the huge unhatched eggs of the world's sorrows.
One night he woke to the soughing of great wings and saw a bat-like creature with the head of a violin resting upon the bedrail.
Nature had combined in him the features of a degenerate pope and the torpor of a crocodile, and to these had added a voice of unconscionable harshness.
Love is like trench warfare - you cannot see the enemy, but you know he is there and that it is wiser to keep your head down.