Nothing Brings On Jealousy Like Laughter.

I Was Thinking That I Should Be Content To Kiss Him Until The Break Of Day. Bertrand Ran Out Of Kisses Too Soon; Desire Made Them Superfluous In His Eyes. They Were Only A Stage On The Road To Pleasure, Not Something Inexhaustible And Self-sufficient, As Luc Had Revealed Them To Me.

Usually I Avoided College Students, Whom I Considered Brutal, Wrapped Up In Themselves, Particularly In Their Youth, In Which They Found Material For Drama Or An Excuse For Their Own Boredom. I Did Not Care For Young People.

I Did Not Find Him Absurd. I Saw He Was Kind, That He Was On The Verge Of Real Love. I Thought It Would Be Nice For Me To Be In Love With Him, Too.

What You Call Types Of Mind Are Only Mental Ages.

I've Often Found Myself Preferring Second-rate People To Supposedly Superior People, Simply And Solely Because Of Their Uncontrollable Tendency To Bang Themselves Against The Sides Of Life's Vast Lampshade Like Fireflies Or Moths.