I hate solitude, but I'm afraid of intimacy. The substance of my life is a private conversation with myself which to turn into a dialogue would be equivalent to self-destruction. The company which I need is the company which a pub or a cafe will provide. I have never wanted a communion of souls. It's already hard enough to tell the truth to oneself.

He wanted to take her in his arms, he wanted to be utterly revealed to her, he wanted her to understand.

This sort of quiet gazing, which was like a feeding of the heart, was something I had not experienced with any other woman.

Perhaps there was an intimacy which did not need words.