Roman Payne Quotes - Page 5

No man sings as beautifully as when his song is accompanied by a woman’s voice.

When she was a child,
my love carried a road map in her hand
the way other girls carried handkerchiefs.

Wine gives one 'ideas,' whereas champagne gives one 'strategies.

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.
Her hands asleep beside her.
Her hair draped on the lawn
like a mantle of cloth.
I give her my life
for our love is whole
I sing her beauty
in my soul.

Ô, wine!, the truth-serum so potent that all those who wish to live happy lives should abstain from drinking it entirely!... except of course when they are alone.

It is only in the peach innocence of youth that life is at its crest on top of the wheel. And there being only life, the young cling to it, they fear death... And they should! ...For they are in life.

It was a time I slept in many rooms, called myself by many names. I wandered through the quarters of the city like alluvium wanders the river banks. I knew every kind of joy, ascents of every hue. Mine was the twilight and the morning. Mine was a world of rooftops and love songs.

I’ve only been to jail a few times, but in several different countries, at that. No, I've only been to jail a few times. But I still claim the ability to write a "serious" novel.

Looking back on my life, I sigh. The caprice of youth goes with the wind, I’ve no regrets.

Everything was brighter and more colorful in those years, as if my youth was ending in an explosion of unreal passion. Memories like these make my life sacred and holy.

I took her to bed with silk and song
'Lay still, my love, I won’t be long,
I must prepare my body for passion.'
'O, your body you give, but all else you ration...

May a man live well-enough and long-enough, to leave many joyful widows behind him.

I saw this moment as attached by threads to eternity and woven between all the other braided moments of my past and my future.

After joyfully working each morning, I would leave off around midday to challenge myself to a footrace. Speeding along the sunny paths of the Jardin du Luxembourg, ideas would breed like aphids in my head - for creative invention is easy and sublime when air cycles quickly through the lungs and the body is busy at noble tasks.

I know a girl from whose body sunbeams rose to the clouds as if they’d fallen from the sun.
Her laugh was like a bangle of bells.
“Your hair is wet,” I told her one day, “Did you take a bath?”
“It is dew!” she laughed, “I’ve been lying in the grass. All morning long, I lay here waiting for the dawn.