I know that whenever a group of women are gathered together, the grandmother always makes a phantom appearance, hovering above them.

In the mythic schema of all relations between men and women, man proposes, and woman is disposed of.

Nostalgia, the vice of the aged. We watch so many old movies our memories come in monochrome.

I think it's one of the scars in our culture that we have too high an opinion of ourselves. We align ourselves with the angels instead of the higher primates.

I haven't changed much, over the years. I use less adjectives, now, and have a kinder heart, perhaps.

I see her as a series of marvellous shapes formed at random in the kaleidoscope of desire.

What a joy it is to dance and sing!

Reading a book is like re-writing it for yourself. You bring to a novel, anything you read, all your experience of the world. You bring your history and you read it in your own terms.

We must all make do with the rags of love we find flapping on the scarecrow of humanity.

Language is power, life and the instrument of culture, the instrument of domination and liberation.

If Miss means respectably unmarried, and Mrs. respectably married, then Ms. means nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

Waiters are the help, dear. It's like falling in love with a blender!

Everything seems to work with a recurring rhythm except life. There is only one birth and only one death. Nothing else is like that.

Control thy passions lest they take vengence on thee.

But even in the Christian religion, much of its real meaning is hidden by words that are misleading and symbols that but few understand.

Enemies are created, not born.

During a speech on Sunday, President Obama said to the crowd, 'We've got to vote. Vote. Vote. Vote. Vote. Vote.' This went on for an hour until someone finally fixed his teleprompter.

I heard that you did not have a judge to interview this month in the Bulletin, so I thought I'd help out. Besides, with the Stock Market tanking recently, it reminded me of the good old days.

In the brush doing what it is doing, it will stumble on what one could not do by oneself.

The game of power is played remorselessly by men who have not the slightest knowledge of, or interest in, the way ordinary people live, and the ordinary people are too terrified to protest.

Am I a myth? Am I a legend? Or am I a phenomenon?