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Nothing endures but personal qualities.

It is easy when we are in prosperity to give advice to the afflicted.
A mistress never is nor can be a friend. While you agree, you are lovers; and when it is over, anything but friends.
The reason that adulation is not displeasing is that, though untrue, it shows one to be of consequence enough, in one way or other, to induce people to lie.
I do not love you

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

that this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Lovers may be -- and indeed generally are -- enemies, but they never can be friends, because there must always be a spice of jealousy and a something of Self in all their speculations.
In a minute there is time for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
Love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter.
You are the music while the music lasts.
Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.
All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream.
Hell is oneself, hell is alone, the other figures in it merely projections. There is nothing to escape from and nothing to escape to. One is always alone.
The last temptation is the greatest treason: To do the right deed for the wrong reason.
He who is not busy being born is busy dying.
She wore far too much rouge last night and not quite enough clothes. That is always a sign of despair in a woman.
Through our sunless lanes creeps Poverty with her hungry eyes, and Sin with his sodden face follows close behind her. Misery wakes us in the morning and Shame sits with us at night.
None of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves.
The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what Fiction means.
The past is of no importance. The present is of no importance. It is with the future that we have to deal. For the past is what man should not have been. The present is what man ought not to be. The future is what artists are.
And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats, none knew so well as I: for he who lives more lives than one more deaths than one must die.
Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.
An idea is a feat of association, and the height of it is a good metaphor.
Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.
I am against a homogenized society because I want the cream to rise.
Words are alive; cut them and they bleed.

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