"No matter how much you feed the wolf, he keeps looking at the f

“My spring melancholy is developing in these hot days into summer madness.”

“You are reborn with the roses, in every spring.”

"February is nearly always melancholy."

I find some comfort in things that aren't easy to define.

My own dark time, as I call it, the time of my loneliness, was most of my life, as I have said, and I can't make any real account of myself without speaking of it. The time passed so strangely, as if every winter were the same winter, and every spring the same spring.

“All I ask is for you to get to know me on a deep, intimate level, while I resist and obstruct your every attempt to do so.”

"Her glance became a gaze and her gaze became a powerful desire..."

“The first flurries of snow danced against a black sky, and I found myself hoping they would tumble down in millions, stick fast, and bury everything.”

There is no exquisite beauty, […] without some strangeness in the proportion. 

“All dark, all bloody, my heart,”

“Ghosts sit in my mouth and sing.”