But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.

Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise.

Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.

We choose not randomly each other. We meet only those who already exists in our subconscious.

One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.

Most people do not really want freedom, because freedom involves responsibility, and most people are frightened of responsibility.

The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is 'What does a woman want?'

In the small matters trust the mind, in the large ones the heart.

The mind is like an iceberg, it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.

We are what we are because we have been what we have been.

I prefer the company of animals more than the company of humans. Certainly, a wild animal is cruel. But to be merciless is the privilege of civilized humans.

Life is limited, but by writing, and reading, we can live in different worlds, get inside the skins and minds of other people, and, in this way, push out the boundaries of our own lifes.

On the way home I absently minded (you know what I mean) went through a stop sign in Hyannis so of course there was a police car to apprehend me. A soft answer turnethed away wrath, fortunately.

Right at the end of the big wall of vibrators, $29.95, big rubber fist. Thirty bucks! Just in time for mothers day.

I've always tried to be honest, and it would be too difficult for me to develop some kind of persona. I don't have enough time or energy for that.

The entertainment industry is terrified of silence.

Each piece of writing I undertake, whether a story, novel, play, or poem, begins with an image.

However hard we try to bring in the new; it comes into being only in the midst of clumsy deals.

What is well done, I feel as if I did; what is ill-done, I reck not of.

On Pride: This sickness is most dangerous when it succeeds in looking like humility. When a proud man thinks he is humble his case is hopeless.

If a psychiatrist would analyze [the lyrics], I'm sure they'd come up with something interesting. I really don't try to twist them. I don't want to slash things.