» Absence blots people out. We really have no absent friends.
» The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out. We really have no absent friends. The friend becomes a traitor by breaking, however unwillingly or sadly, out of our own zone: a hard judgment is passed on him, for all the pleas of the heart.
» Art is the only thing that can go on mattering, once it has stopped hurting.
» Experience isn't interesting until it begins to repeat itself. In fact, till it does that, it hardly is experience.
» Nobody can be kinder than the narcissist while you react to life in his own terms.
» It is not our exalted feelings, it is our sentiments that build the necessary home.
» The charm, one might say the genius of memory, is that it is choosy, chancy, and temperamental: it rejects the edifying cathedral and indelibly photographs the small boy outside, chewing a hunk of melon in the dust.
» Fate is not an eagle, it creeps like a rat.
» All your youth you want to have your greatness taken for granted; when you find it taken for granted, you are unnerved.
» Some people are molded by their admirations, others by their hostilities.