Hate Is A Lack Of Imagination.

If I Stopped Loving Him, I Would Cease To Believe In His Love. If I Loved God, Then I Would Believe In His Love For Me. It's Not Enough To Need It. We Have To Love First, And I Don't Know How. But I Need It, How I Need It.

Fun... Human Nature... Does No One Any Harm... Regular As Clockwork The Old Excuses Came Back Into The Alert, Sad And Dissatisfied Brain--nothing Ever Matched The Deep Excitement Of The Regular Desire. Men Always Failed You When It Came To The Act. She Might Just As Well Have Been To The Pictures.

I Could Never Have Been A Pacifist. To Kill A Man Was Surely To Grant Him An Immeasurable Benefit. Oh Yes, People Always, Everywhere, Loved Their Enemies. It Was Their Friends They Preserved For Pain And Vacuity.

I’m Not At Peace Anymore. I Just Want Him Like I Used To In The Old Days. I Want To Be Eating Sandwiches With Him. I Want To Be Drinking With Him In A Bar. I’m Tired And I Don’t Want Anymore Pain. I Want Maurice. I Want Ordinary Corrupt Human Love. Dear God, You Know I Want To Want Your Pain, But I Don’t Want It Now. Take It Away For A While And Give It Me Another Time.

If Only It Were Possible To Love Without Injury – Fidelity Isn’t Enough: I Had Been Faithful To Anne And Yet I Had Injured Her. The Hurt Is In The Act Of Possession: We Are Too Small In Mind And Body To Possess Another Person Without Pride Or To Be Possessed Without Humiliation. In A Way I Was Glad That My Wife Had Struck Out At Me Again – I Had Forgotten Her Pain For Too Long, And This Was The Only Kind Of Recompense I Could Give Her. Unfortunately The Innocent Are Always Involved In Any Conflict. Always, Everywhere, There Is Some Voice Crying From A Tower.