In this world love has no color yet how deeply my body is stained by yours.

Even when a river of tears courses through this body, the flame of love cannot be quenched.

Rather than recallin these flowersthe fragrance of the past,I would like to hear this nightingale's voice,to know if his song is as sweet.

Although I try / to hold the single thought / of Buddha's teaching in my heart, / I cannot help but hear / the many crickets' voices calling as well.

The one close to me now; even my own body--these too will soon become clouds, floating in different directions.

Come quickly -- as soon as these blossoms open, they fall. This world exists as a sheen of dew on flowers.

Watching the moon at midnight, solitary, mid-sky, I knew myself completely, no part left out.

In love longing I listen to the monk's bell. I will never forget you even for an interval short as those between the bell notes.

When my desiregrows too fierceI wear my bed clothesinside out, dark as the night’s rough husk.

I'm numb and I'm tired. Too much has happened today. I feel as if I'd been out in a pounding rain for forty-eight hours without an umbrella or a coat. I'm soaked to the skin with emotion.

I wrote about what I was going through at the time.

It is curious that while one's education is the part of one's life over the conditions of which one has least individual control, the results of it are held to brand one irrevocably.

for a man of 55 who didn't get laid until he was 23 and not very often until he was 50 I think that I should stay listed via Pacific Telephone until I get as much as the average man has had

I'm just glad it'll be Clark Gable who's falling on his face and not Gary Cooper.

We humans are a fairly barbarous bunch.

If my devils are to leave me, I'm afraid my angels will take flight as well.

Despite a voluminous and often fervent literature on "income distribution," the cold fact is that most income is not distributed: It is earned.

There is no great sport in having bullets flying about one in every direction, but I find they have less horror when among them than when in anticipation.

The happiest of all lives is a busy solitude.