You end up as you deserve. In old age you must put up with the face the friends the health and the children you have earned.

If you do nothing unexpected, nothing unexpected happens.

Nothing happens, and nothing happens, and then everything happens.

There's no such thing as old age, there is only sorrow.

Only one thing registers on the subconscious mind: repetitive application - practice. What you practice is what you manifest.

I didn't even know I was a feminist until I read it on the back of one of my own books.

The desire for self-expression afflicts people when they feel there is something of themselves which is not getting through to the outside world.

Fiction stretches our sensibilities and our understanding, as mere information never can.

Marriage is a very difficult relationship for nearly everyone and I'm sure you shouldn't do it if you want a quiet little easy life.

guilt to motherhood is like grapes to wine

She could see that to lose a sibling was hard: it could only seem unnatural:out of time, out of order, a vicious re-run of your own departure into nothingness.

your imagination is the key to the door of freedom

I was about to die

An abstract style is always bad. Your sentences should be full of stones, metals, chairs, tables, animals, men, and women.

You are successful the moment you start moving toward a worthwhile goal.

The obvious reductio ad absurdum is Holocaust deniers: Should their perspective be provided, for "balance," any time someone writes about the Holocaust?

I keep waiting to be invited to the hip hop party, I've never been. So if there's anyone out there who is having a hip hop party, I'd like to come.

Some people think they are worth a lot of money just because they have it.

In matters of religion and matrimony I never give any advice; because I will not have anybody's torments in this world or the next laid to my charge.

Through pop music ideas, energies and resources can emerge that can help the audience release themselves from the unrelieving confinements of environment.

Not sorry, not calling, not crying All will pass like smoke of white apple trees Seized by the gold of autumn, I will no longer be young.