I am dying: it's a beautiful word. Like the long slow sigh of the cello: dying. But the sound of it is the only beautiful thing about it.

She doesn't understand that doors, walls, fences, ceilings - they're helpless to keep out what determinedly desires to get in.

I suppose that's what happens when you make other people's lives miserable: life gets miserable back at you.

I would always be lonely, but no more alone.

Affection makes fools. Always, without exception, love digs a channel that's sooner or later flooded by the briny water of despair.

Yeah, reflections! The same, but different. Like twins - like blood brothers! And when you need something bad done, like punishment or revenge, you'll just ask me, and I will do it -

Every atom in me feels composed of lead. This is what dying is: a pull to the ground.

I am dying: it's a beautiful word. Like the long slow sigh of a cello: dying. But the sound of it is the only beautiful thing about it.

Evangeline's obliviousness was a reason to like her rather than not: I liked least those schoolfellows whose awareness of me invariably caused misery.

We both knew that what I said was the truth, as well as being a lie. The pure and honest answer was pinging between us, hovering above the weeds.

Amongst all the virtues, high awareness is the most precious one!

Folks who talk about no violence are always the ones who are first to call a policeman and usually they are sure there is one handy.

I don't have emotional needs, only physical ones.

I want to play challenging characters. You should never be satisfied.

Doubtless these are inconsequential perplexities. Still, inconsequential perplexities have now and again been known to become the fundamental mood of existence, one suspects.

There is only one person who can ever know exactly what you want and truly make you happy - that person is you!

I'll dig in into my days, having come here to live, not to visit. Grey is the price of neighboring with eagles, of knowing a mountain's vast presence, seen or unseen.

Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?

....honest men are few when it comes to themselves.

I've stopped thinking all the time of what happened yesterday. And stopped asking what's going to happen tomorrow. What's happening today, this minute, is what I care about.