People always think their world is coming to an end if they're exposed, and of course it isn't coming to an end; it goes right on exactly the way it always was.

A woman whose smile is open and whose expression is glad has a kind of beauty no matter what she wears.

Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life.

Some people who think they are in unhappy marriages are just in unhappy bodies.

A person who has no secrets is a liar. We always fold ourselves away from others just enough to preserve a secret or two, something that we cannot share without destroying our inner landscape.

People always tell me either A. you love him. B. you hate him. My usual answer? C. All of the above.

I am not a perfect friend, and it is impossible not to rebuff or be rebuffed if you move about the world.

I've told the same story twelve different ways, but I think that's just part of what writers do. Once may not be enough.

What other people think of me is not really my major concern in life. What other people think of what I write is another matter.

I have two writer daughters, and a psychoanalyst daughter, and a lawyer daughter, and they wish we didn't write, I'm sure, but we write. If we were a painting family, we would paint.

You really can't say things that upset someone in print and expect them to be nice and leave you their money. That's just not reasonable.

Sometimes new opportunity means new opposition. Not everything God asks us to do will be comfortable.

People think they are not satisfied with what they have but in true sense they are not satisfied with what they are.

Wake-up! Think for yourself, be yourself and return to what is real.

America exhausts the springs of one's soul - I suppose that's what it exists for. It lives to see all real spontaneity expire. But anyhow it doesn't grind on an old nerve as Europe seems to.

People in my situation get to read about themselves whether they want to or not. It's generally wrong. Or oversimplified - which is sometimes useful.

I'm done with men. I have a hamster. That's all I need.

I spent years crying in my diary. But I finally stopped finding fault with myself. We're all different, yet the same.

Hey. What is it that famous person said? 'It'll all work out in the end, and if it doesn't, that means it's not the end yet'?

Other things are just food. But chocolate's chocolate.

Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed.