Love is our human miracle.
I feel more alive when I'm writing than I do at any other time--except maybe when I'm making love.
There is only one real deprivation... and that is not to be able to give one's gifts to those one loves most.
It is good for a professional to be reminded that his professionalism is only a husk, that the real person must remain an amateur, a lover of the work.
How unnatural the imposed view, imposed by a puritanical ethos, that passionate love belongs only to the young, that people are dead from the neck down by the time they are forty, and that any deep feeling, any passion after that age, is either ludicrous or revolting!
Am I too old, perhaps, ever to take in another's life to share with mine on a permanent basis? If so, I must make do with what I have... and what I have is a great richness of friends and a positively ardent love of nature. Not nothing!
... love is healing, even rootless love.
No partner in a love relationship... should feel that he has to give up an essential part of himself to make it viable.
It is the privilege of those who fear love to murder those who do not fear it!
No partner in a love relationship...should feel that he has to give up an essential part of himself to make it viable.
Without darkness, nothing comes to birth, As without light, nothing flowers.