London, how could one ever be tired of it?

When nothing is sure, everything is possible.

How unjust life is, to make physical charm so immediately apparent or absent, when one can get away with vices untold for ever.

Family life itself, that safest, most traditional, most approved of female choices, is not a sanctuary: It is, perpetually, a dangerous place.

Scenery can be a violent stimulant.

Lord knows what incommunicable small terrors infants go through, unknown to all.

Novels, since the birth of the genre, have been full of rejected, seduced, and abandoned maidens, whose proper fate is to die.

The human mind can bear plenty of reality but not too much intermittent gloom.

The women are always vixens or monsters. They can't just be normal people in the book.

Nothing fails like failure

Why can't people be both flexible and efficient?

Consult your memory to know what matters most in your life.

Being here to witness the beauty, to learn, to be astonished, to love - is enough. Being able to create in addition is a delightful honour.

I've had seven balls of light come off a UFO...explain to me telepathically we are all one and there's no such thing as death.

My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.

We must learn to speak the language women speak when there is no one there to correct us.

I've caught myself a time or two adding or embellishing. I don't think that pleases the Lord. I don't think He needs my dishonesty to convey His gospel.

Oh, how sweet it is to pity the fate of an enemy who can no longer threaten us!

You can as easily love without trusting as you can hug without embracing.

We're getting along so well; I trust you so much for this one second that I'm going to let you yank on me.

It is in these moments of tender and ridiculous nostalgia that I know something inside me is still broken.