You have to be very fond of men. Very, very fond. You have to be very fond of them to love them. Otherwise they're simply unbearable.

The woman is the home. That's where she used to be, and that's where she still is. You might ask me, What if a man tries to be part of the home -- will the woman let him? I answer yes. Because the he becomes one of the children.

فبما إنّي كنتُ أكتب .. توجّب الحديث عن الكتب ، وهذا ما لا يتحمّله الرجال ، لا يتحمّلون امرأةً تكتب. إنّه أمرٌ لا يُطاق بالنسبة إلى الرجل ، شاقّ على الجميع

It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him.

No other human being, no woman, no poem or music, book or painting can replace alcohol in its power to give man the illusion of real creation.

Perhaps someone will have seen mine, the one I’m waiting for, just as I saw him, in a ditch when his hands were making their last appeal and his eyes no longer could see. Someone who will never know what that man was to me; someone whose name I’ll never know.

Frigidity is desire imagined by a woman who doesnt desire the man offering himself to her. Its the desire of a woman for a man who hasnt yet come to her, whom she doesnt yet know. Shes faithful to this stranger even before she belongs to him. Frigidity is the non-desire for whatever is not him.

He wanted to pay her; he thought women ought to be paid for keeping men from dying or going out of their minds.

Alcohol is barren. The words a man speaks in the night of drunkenness fade like the darkness itself at the coming of day.