Things are sweeter when they're lost. I know--because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, Dot, and when I got it it turned to dust in my hand.
He found himself remembering how on one summer morning they two had started from New York in search of happiness. They had never expected to find it, perhaps, yet in itself that quest had been happier than anything he expected forevermore. Life, it s...
Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life.
Tired, tired with nothing, tired with everything, tired with the world’s weight he had never chosen to bear.
Experience is not worth the getting. It's not a thing that happens pleasantly to a passive you - it's a wall that an active you runs up against.
Experience is not worth the getting. It's not a thing that happens pleasantly to a passive you--it's a wall that an active you runs up against.
The sheath that held her soul had assumed significance - that was all. She was a sun, radiant, growing, gathering light and storing it - then after an eternity pouring it forth in a glance, the fragment of a sentence, to that part of him that cherish...
their eyes are full of kindness as each feels the full effect of novelty after a short separation. They are drawing a relaxation from each other's presence, a new serenity.
This is all. It's been very rare to have known you, very strange and wonderful. But this wouldn't do - and wouldn't last.
What a feeble thing intelligence is, with its short steps, its waverings, its pacings back and forth, its disastrous retreats! Intelligence is a mere instrument of circumstances. There are people who say that intelligence must have built the universe...
The notion of sitting down and conjuring up, not only words in which to clothe thoughts but thoughts worthy of being clothed--the whole thing was absurdly beyond his desires.
Is kissing you generally considered a joyful affair?" -
There was one of his lonelinesses coming, one of those times when he walked the streets or sat, aimless and depressed, biting a pencil at his desk. It was a self-absorption with no comfort, a demand for expression with no outlet, a sense of time rush...
They were stars on this stage, each playing to an audience of two.
But magic must hurry on, and the lovers remain...
Rather nice night, after all. Stars are out and everything. Exceptionally tasty assortment of them.
He found that the business of optimism was no mean task.
The fire blazing in her dark and injured heart seemed to glow around her like a flame.
