I take her as God made her$$$ and as men Must fail to unmake her$$$ for my honoured wife.

He's always$$$ always in my mind$$$ not as a pleasure$$$ any more than I am always a pleasure to myself$$$ but as my own being.

Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run.

We cry for ourselves$$$ don't we? Not for the dead. The dead are past caring.

Beyond a certain age$$$ sincerity ceases to feel pornographic.

It’s not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child$$$ but somehow I managed to fit in eight hours of TV a day.

It was Beauty killed the Beast.

The words with which a child's heart is poisoned$$$ whether through malice or through ignorance$$$ remain branded in his memory$$$ and sooner or later they burn his soul.

You have to have a dream so you can get up in the morning.

The essence of dramatic tragedy is not unhappiness. It resides in the solemnity of the remorseless working of things.