She wore a lot of gray-green corduroy. She had been under the impression that it brought out her eyes, those shy stars.

This is what happened in love. One of you cried a lot and then both of you grew sarcastic.

Usually she ordered a cup of coffee and a cup of tea, as well as a brownie, propping up her sadness with chocolate and caffeine so that it became an anxiety.

She was afraid, and the afraid, she realized, sought opportunities for bravery in love.

She knew there were only small joys in life--the big ones were too complicated to be joys when you got all through--and once you realized that, it took a lot of the pressure off.

So I needed to be womanised. I was losing my sheen.

The turkeys I eat are raised on farms. They're different. They've signed on the dotted line.

But it would be like going to Heaven and not finding any of your friends there. Her life would go all beatific and empty in the eyes.

Mave believed that not being able to see your life clearly, to scrutinize it intelligently, meant that probably you were at the dead center of it, and that couldn't possibly be a bad thing.

I don't have a love life. I have a like life.'Mamie smiled. She thought how nice that might be, to be peacefully free from love...

It was strange, this toxic little vein, strange to stand above it, looking down at night, in a dangerous neighborhood, as if they were in love and entitled to such adventures.

Action is the pulse of any good story, but the character is the heart. If the action has no consequence to the character, the story loses heart.

Christian hands never clasp and He doesn't give gifts for gain because a gift can never stop being a gift - it is always meant to be given.

The dissenter is every human being at those moments of his life when he resigns momentarily from the herd and thinks for himself.

Movies are too literal.

We're forever teetering on the brink of the unknowable, and trying to understand what can't be understood.

The success occurs in a place outside of me, and doesn't touch me on an intimate level. I live in my own skin, I have not changed greatly, I remain the same woman.

My style is ghetto chic. I love tacky jewelry, mega heels, high-waisted shorts, catsuits.

I found my interest lapse in both acting and racing.

The middle sort of historians (of which the most part are) spoil all; they will chew our meat for us.

When you live the virtues - when you live in that place of God-consciousness - all these rules we have about cause and effect, beginnings and ends, don't have any impact or relevance.