Love Is Worth Whatever It Costs.

For This Was The Round Of Love: Fear Which Leads On Desire, Tenderness And Fury, And That Brutal Anguish Which Triumphantly Follows Pleasure.

Every Little Girl Knows About Love. It Is Only Her Capacity To Suffer Because Of It That Increases.

People Respect Unhappiness And Find It Especially Hard To Forgive Success.

Art Must Take Reality By Surprise. It Takes Those Moments Which Are For Us Merely A Moment, Plus A Moment, Plus Another Moment, And Arbitrarily Transforms Them Into A Special Series Of Moments Held Together By A Major Emotion.

A Strange Melancholy Pervades Me To Which I Hesitate To Give The Grave And Beautiful Name Of Sorrow. The Idea Of Sorrow Has Always Appealed To Me But Now I Am Almost Ashamed Of It's Complete Egoism. I Have Known Boredom, Regret, And Occasionally Remorse, But Never Sorrow. Today It Envelops Me Like A Silken Web, Enervating And Soft, And Sets Me Apart From Everybody Else.