What You Call Types Of Mind Are

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.

I Found Myself Both Touched And Irritated By The Discovery That She Was Vulnerable.

I Have Loved To The Point Of Madness; That Which Is Called Madness, That Which To Me, Is The Only Sensible Way To Love.

For What Are We Looking For If Not To Please? I Do Not Know If The Desire To Attract Others Comes From A Superabundance Of Vitality, Possessiveness, Or The Hidden, Unspoken Need To Be Reassured.

Writing Is Just Having A Sheet Of Paper, A Pen And Not A Shadow Of An Idea Of What You Are Going To Say.