Better hope deferred than none. Up to a point. Till the heart starts to sicken.
Better a sick heart than none. Till it starts to break.
Is it that I do not tell the truth, is that it, that some day somehow I may tell the truth at last and then no more light at last, for the truth?
Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.
I see my light dying.
The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.
Love brings out the worst in man and no error.
Now that we know where we’re going, let’s go there. It’s so nice to know where you’re going, in the early stages. It almost rids you of the wish to go there.
There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the faults of his feet.
We were so old, she and I, she had had me so young, that we were like a couple of old cronies, sexless, unrelated, with the same memories, the same rancours, the same expectations.
I must have been on the top, or on the slopes, of some considerable eminence, for otherwise how could I have seen, so far away, so near at hand, so far beneath, so many things, fixed and moving.
To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
Yes strange darkness best and the darker the worse.
Let me hear nothing of the moon, in my night there is no moon, and if it happens that I speak of the stars it is by mistake.
An instant of silence, as when the conductor taps on his stand, raises his arms, before the unanswerable clamour.
One should not dread the winter, it too has its bounties, the snow gives warmth and deadens the tumult and its pale days are soon over.
To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn't want them back.
Yes, strange, darkness best, and the darker the worse, then all well, for the time, but it will come, the time will come, the thing is there, you'll see it.