"Men like women who write. Even though they don't say so. A writer is a foreign country."
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"Men like women who write. Even though they don't say so. A writer is a foreign country."
"Alcohol doesn't console, it doesn't fill up anyone's psychological gaps, all it replaces is the lack of God. It doesn't comfort man. On the contrary, it encourages him in his folly, it transports him to the supreme regions where he is master of his own destiny."
"Madness is like intelligence, you know. You can't explain it. Just like intelligence. It comes on you, it fills you, and then you understand it. But when it goes away you can't understand it at all any longer."
"It was the men I deceived the most that I loved the most."
"You are what you are and that fascinates me."
"We’re in the vanguard of a nameless battle, a battle without arms or bloodshed or glory: we’re in the vanguard of waiting."
"What she said was always strange. It had happened long ago. It seemed insignificant. And yet it was something you remembered forever. The words as well as the story. The voice as much as the words."
"I seldom read on beaches or in gardens. You can't read by two lights at once, the light of day and the light of the book. You should read by electric light, the room in shadow, and only the page lit up."
"It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him."
"Heterosexuality is dangerous. It tempts you to aim at a perfect duality of desire."
"Get rid of things or you'll spend your whole life tidying up."
"In a certain state of mind, all trace of feeling is banished. Whenever I remain silent in a certain way, I don't love you, have you noticed that?"
"Alcohol is barren. The words a man speaks in the night of drunkenness fade like the darkness itself at the coming of day."
"I see journalists as the manual workers, the laborers of the word. Journalism can only be literature when it is passionate."
"The solitude of writing is a solitude without which writing could not be produced, or would crumble, drained bloodless by the search for something else to write."
"Stormy skies, says Ernesto. He grieved for them. Summer rain. Childhood."
"She had lived her early years as though she were waiting for something she might, but never did, become."
"The thing that's between us is fascination, and the fascination resides in our being alike. Whether you're a man or a woman, the fascination resides in finding out that we're alike."
"I'm still there, watching those possessed children, as far away from the mystery now as I was then. I've never written, though I thought I wrote, never loved, though I thought I loved, never done anything but wait outside the closed door."
"When the past is recaptured by the imagination, breath is put back into life."