I couldn’t ever boil potatoes over the heat of your affection. Your love would never bridge a gap; it wouldn’t even fill up the hole that the mice came through...
I can draw and write, and you’d be foolish not to hire me.
God, children know something they can’t tell; they like Red Riding Hood and the wolf in bed!
The very condition of Woman is so subject to Hazard, so complex, and so grievous, that to place her at one moment is but to displace her at the next.
When one wants to become cognizant of the color and the texture of the soil, one does not get a ladder; one gets a shovel. When one wants to get into touch with the texture of the universal mind, one does not go to Boston; one goes to the Bowery.
Life, the permission to know death.
Too great a sense of identity makes a man feel he can do no wrong. And too little does the same.
To love without criticism is to be betrayed.
I have a narrative, but you will be put to it to find it.
There is always more surface to a shattered object than a whole.
One cup poured into another makes different waters; tears shed by one eye would blind if wept into another’s eye. The breast we strike in joy is not the breast we strike in pain; any man’s smile would be consternation on another’s mouth.
In the acceptance of depravity the sense of the past is most truly captured. What is a ruin but time easing itself of endurance? Corruption is the Age of Time.
Una’s face was an unbroken block of calculation, saving where, upon her upper lip, a little down of hair fluttered. Yet it gave one an uncanny feeling. It made one think of a tassel on a hammer.
One’s life is peculiar to one’s own when one has invented it.
I’ve seen death and I didn’t like it.
Certainty always produces questions, uncertainty statements. It is a balancing law of nature.
Youth is cause, effect is age; so with the thickening of the neck we get data.
Sleep demands of us a guilty immunity.
No man needs curing of his individual sickness; his universal malady is what he should look to.
New York rose out of the water like a great wave that found it impossible to return again and so remained there in horror, peering out of the million windows man had caged it with.