Alcohol Doesn't Console, It Doesn't Fill Up

Finding Yourself In A Hole, At The Bottom Of A Hole, In Almost Total Solitude, And Discovering That Only Writing Can Save You. To Be Without The Slightest Subject For A Book, The Slightest Idea For A Book, Is To Find Yourself, Once Again, Before A Book. A Vast Emptiness. A Possible Book. Before Nothing. Before Something Like Living, Naked Writing, Like Something Terrible, Terrible To Overcome.

I've Forgotten The Words With Which To Tell You. I Knew Them Once, But I've Forgotten Them, And Now I'm Talking To You Without Them.

The House A Woman Creates Is A Utopia. She Can't Help It - Can't Help Trying To Interest Her Nearest And Dearest Not In Happiness Itself But In The Search For It.

Frigidity Is Desire Imagined By A Woman Who Doesnt Desire The Man Offering Himself To Her. Its The Desire Of A Woman For A Man Who Hasnt Yet Come To Her, Whom She Doesnt Yet Know. Shes Faithful To This Stranger Even Before She Belongs To Him. Frigidity Is The Non-desire For Whatever Is Not Him.

She Says People Ought To Learn To Live Like Them, With The Body Abandoned In A Wilderness, And In The Mind The Memory Of A Single Kiss, A Single Word, A Single Look To Stand For A Whole Love.