My partner is a Frenchman, so I have got to smell right.
The bars on our cage are of our own making.
Every woman is the architect of her own fortune.
Pity, unlike hate, can be boxed and put away.
But words are water in Amsterdam, they flood your ears and set the rot, and the church's east corner is crowded.
Love is best a phantom than reality, better in the chase than caught.
But how right is it to kill a man for something that is in his soul?
When God loves you, what can be better than that?
But Jude,' she would say, 'you knew me. All those days and years, Jude, you knew me. My ways and my hands and how my stomach folded and how we tried to get Mickey to nurse and how about that time when the landlord said. . . but you said. . . and I cried, Jude. You knew me and had listened to the things I said in the night, and heard me in the bathroom and laughed at my raggedy girdle and I laughed too because I knew you too, Jude. So how could you leave me when you knew me?
Suchness is neither that which is existence, nor that which is nonexistence, nor that which is at once existence and nonexistence, nor that which is not at once existence and nonexistence.
Sex is like an atom bomb. A potent weapon which fascinates and frightens. We're afraid to let it loose, yet we all have our finger on the button.