“Life is occupied in both perpetuating itself and in surpassing itself; if all it…” — Simone de Beauvoir

Why one man rather than another? It was odd. You find yourself involved with a fellow for life just because he was the one that you met when you were nineteen.

The writer of originality, unless dead, is always shocking, scandalous; novelty disturbs and repels.

This has always been a man's world, and none of the reasons that have been offered in explanation have seemed adequate.

In itself, homosexuality is as limiting as heterosexuality: the ideal should be to be capable of loving a woman or a man; either, a human being, without feeling fear, restraint, or obligation.