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One by one they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.
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My body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.
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Love between man and man is impossible because there must not be sexual intercourse and friendship between man and woman is impossible because there must be sexual intercourse.
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Moments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory.
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She dealt with moral problems the way a cleaver deals with meat: and in this case she had made up her mind.
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He tried to weigh his soul to see if it was a poet's soul. Melancholy was the dominant note of his temperament, he thought, but it was a melancholy tempered by recurrences of faith and resignation and simple joy. If he could give expression to it in a book of poems perhaps men would listen.
