We are all civilized people, wich means that we are all savages at heart but observing a few amenities of civilized behaviour.
Openings come quickly, sometimes, like blue space in running clouds. A complete overcast, then a blaze of light...
You know, then that the public Somebody you are when you ‘have a name’ is a fiction created with mirrors and that the only somebody worth being is the solitary and unseen you that existed from your first breath.
What on earth can you do on this earth but catch at whatever comes near you, with both your fingers, until your fingers are broken?
I don’t want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic! I try to give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don’t tell the truth, I tell what ought to be the truth. And it that’s sinful, then let me be damned for it!
Living with someone you love can be lonelier than living entirely alone, if the on that you love doesn’t love you.
The biggest of all differences in this world is between the ones that had or have pleasure in love and those that haven’t and hadn’t any pleasure in love, but just watched with sick envy.
Glass breaks so easily. No matter how careful you are.
We’ve had this date with each other from the beginning.
And funerals are pretty compared to deaths.
I’m a poet. And then I put the poetry in the drama. I put it in short stories, and I put it in the plays. Poetry’s poetry. It doesn’t have to be called a poem, you know.
Sorrow makes for sincerity, I think.
When things don’t change, their sameness becomes an accretion. That is why all society puts on flesh. Succumbs to the cubicles and begins to fill them.
It is a terrible thing for an old woman to outlive her dogs.
And then the searchlight which had been turned on the world was turned off again and never for one moment since has there been any light that’s stronger than this-kitchen-candle...
The trouble with this world is that everybody has to compromise and conform.
In human character, simplicity doesn’t exist except among simpletons.
I know I fib a good deal. After all, a woman’s charm is fifty per cent illusion, but when a thing is important I tell the truth. – Blanche Scene II.
I talk out the lines as I write them.
I don’t think there is such a thing as a precise sexual orientation. I think we’re all ambiguous sexually.