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1 " A little of him leaned to the muscularity of the homosexual. He would never practice, of course. The physical buttock act repelled him. Though sometimes he experienced a jolting warmth when Tom, one of his friends, bear-hugged him. Or gave him a bristled kiss on a bristled cheek. Certainly there was masculine voltage there. But it was safe. It was the rose border to the act. And like a voyeur, he could peer into the tropical garden from the safety of the rose border. He could experience male pillage of his sex mentally. Yes, it was safe. He would never step from the rose to the man-eating orchid. English rain and misty sun, yes. The hints, yes. But he would never take his machete into the jungle. "
― , Ritual
2 " A rose, to her, was not a natural sculpture in silence, but a beautiful terror on fire. "
3 " Any man who does not experience his hair trying to walk from the top of his head in a wood or a graveyard at night, is suffering from a supreme lack of imagination. "
4 " Nature had no respect for the dead. "
5 " Only his teeth sweated. "
