I want in fact more of you. In my mind I am dressing you with light; I am wrapping you up in blankets of complete acceptance and then I give myself to you. I long for you; I who usually long without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you.
Coffee should be black as Hell, strong as death and sweet as love.
You act like mortals in all that you fear, and like immortals in all that you desire.
There are ways of dying that don’t end in funerals. Types of death you can’t smell.
Sometimes happiness consists of finding the right balance of misery.
Too much of anything can destroy you. Too much darkness can kill you, and too much light can blind you.
I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.
One day, you’re 17 and you’re planning for someday. And then quietly, without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.
The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
Having perfected our disguise, we spend our lives searching for someone we don’t fool.