Outside, a ceiling of pearly gray clouds coalesced over Manhattan, and the apartment had grown dark. It just keeps dripping. It's been like this all week, .. Rain would be a relief.

The wind shows us how close to the edge we are.

The willingness to accept responsibility for one's own life is the source from which self-respect springs.

To cure jealousy is to see it for what it is, a dissatisfaction with self.

We are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.

I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.

Memory fades, memory adjusts, memory conforms to what we think we remember.

We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget.

The fear is for what is still to be lost.

Do not whine... Do not complain. Work harder. Spend more time alone.

Short stories demand a certain awareness of one's own intentions, a certain narrowing of the focus.

What is fear but that ‘thing’ that we believed to be as powerful as it pretended to be.

The most important condition for progress is freedom of the mind.

My confidence was of the hothouse variety, carefully cultivated under highly regulated conditions. One wrong look, one mean comment, and my facade would wither.

When someone says, 'I love you,' he is telling you about himself, not you. When someone says, 'I hate you,' she is telling you about herself, not you. World views are self views-literally.

Proactively, and creatively, persist - day in and day out.

The Hollies, after I left in 1968, had the audacity, the gall, to have three number one records after I left. Thanks a lot, guys.

If the condition of things which we were made for is not yet, what were any reality which we can substitute? We will not be shipwrecked on a vain reality.

If some crazy idea stays in my head for long enough, then there's no fighting it. I just say, Okay, let's go.

I think the book you always like best is the one you're about to write.

My boyfriend asked me to tell a story without my hands, and I couldn't talk.