“She said the reason that love is so painful is that it always amounts to two people wanting more than two people can give.”

“...people liking you or not liking you is an accident and is to do with them and not you. That goes for love too, only more so.”

“I was lonelier than I should be, for a woman in love, or half in love.”

“Love . . . is like nature, but in reverse; first it fruits, then it flowers, then it seems to wither, then it goes deep, deep down into its burrow, where no one sees it, where it is lost from sight, and ultimately people die with that secret buried inside their souls.”

“Writers are always anxious, always on the run--from the telephone, from responsibilities, from the distractions of the world.”

“Oh dark woman With a shawl and ribsI could have served him betterWith my shanties.But men do love the shimmerAnd so his ghostIs hacked in half between usThe dark me and the dark you.”

“Life, after all, was a secret with the self. The more one gave out, the less there remained for the center--that center which she coveted for herself and recognized instantly in others. Fruits had it, the very heart of, say, a cherry, where the true worth and flavor lay. Some of course were flawed or hollow in there. Many, in fact. ”