I didn’t know myself well, and still don’t. But I did know, and know now, the few people I loved and trusted. My feeling for them is one part of me I have never quarreled with, even though my relation...
If I had kept a journal, I could go back through it and check up on what memory reports plausibly but not necessarily truly. But keeping a journal then would have been like making notes while going ov...
It happens that I despise that locution, having sex, which describes something a good deal more mechanical than making love and a good deal less fun than fucking.
It would be easy to call it quits. Occasionally I have these moments, not often. There is nothing to do but sit still until they pass. Tantrums and passions I don't need, endurance is what I need. I h...
No place is a place until it has found its poet.
Our last impression of her as she turned the corner was that smile, flung backward like a handful of flowers.
Salt is added to dried rose petals with the perfume and spices, when we store them away in covered jars, the summers of our past.
Some of our superiors were indeed men of brains and learning and disinterested goodwill, but some were stuffed shirts, and some incompetents, and some timid souls escaping the fray, and some climbers,...
The Cypress Hills massacre,...one of the final outrages of the literally lawless West...came...along that practical and symbolic divide, between the Canadian system of monopoly trading and the America...
There is nothing like a doorbell to precipitate the potential into the kinetic.
There was somewhere, if you knew where to find it, some place where money could be made like drawing water from a well, some Big Rock Candy Mountain where life was effortless and rich and unrestricted...
What the disorderly crave above everything is order, what the dislocated aspire to is location.
[Friendship] is a relationship that has no formal shape, there are no rules or obligations or bonds as in marriage or the family, it is held together by neither law nor property nor blood, there is no...
Intellectual hare
Within yourself, you became a grave for her as you were a grave for Chet, and you carried your dead unquietly within you. —
Recollection, I have found, is usually about half invention...
A daughter at home resting up from her husband--who is apparently a head of some sort, one of the Berkeley Street People, a People's Park maker, a drop-out and a cop-out whose aim is to remake the wor...
A writer is an organism that will go on writing even after its heart has been cut out.
And though creative writing as an intellectual exercise may be pursued with profit by anyone, writing as a profession is not a job for amateurs, dilettantes, part-time thinkers, 25-watt feelers, the l...
Closing up the canyon camp was like closing up a house after a death. (It is easier to die than to move, she wrote Augusta once; at least for the Other Side you don’t need trunks.)
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