His was a great sin who first invented consciousness. Let us lose it for a few hours.
Grown up, and that is a terribly hard thing to do. It is much easier to skip it and go from one childhood to another.
Great art is the contempt of a great man for small art.
Genius is the ability to put into effect what is in your mind.
Genius goes around the world in its youth incessantly apologizing for having large feet. What wonder that later in life it should be inclined to raise those feet too swiftly to fools and bores.
For awhile after you quit Keats all other poetry seems to be only whistling or humming.
First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you.
Family quarrels are bitter things. They don’t go according to any rules. They’re not like aches or wounds; they’re more like splits in the skin that won’t heal because there’s not enough material.
Everybody’s youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness.
Debut: the first time a young girl is seen drunk in public.
Cut out all these exclamation points. An exclamation point is like laughing at your own joke.
Boredom is not an end-product, is comparatively rather an early stage in life and art. You’ve got to go by or past or through boredom, as through a filter, before the clear product emerges.
