The world is quicksand. Find the straight path and stick to it.

One of the nice things about having a lover, it makes you think about everything anew. The rest of your life becomes a kind of movie, flat and even rather funny.

Sex ages us. Priests are boyish, spinsters stay black-haired until after fifty. We others, the demon rots us out.

All men are boys time is trying to outsmart.

The pain of the world is a crater all these syrups and pills a thousandfold would fail to fill.

Days, pale slices between nights, they blend, not exactly alike, transparencies so lightly tinted that only stacked all together do they darken to a fatal shade.

Living is a compromise, between doing what you want and doing what other people want.

Man is a means for turning things into spirit and turning spirit into things.

God is in the tiger as well as in the lamb.

We make companions out of air and hurt them, so they will defy us, completing creation.

What you haven't done by thirty you're not likely to do. What you have done you'll do lots more.

Revolution is just one crowd taking power from another.

Common sense is bullshit, man. It gets you through the days all right, but it leaves you alone at night. It keeps you from knowing.

Chaos is God's body. Order is the Devil's chains.

Pay for what you get because anything free has a rattlesnake under it.

Inch by inch. Life is a cinch. Yard by yard. Life is hard.

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