I think vestigially there's a synesthete in me but not like a real one who immediately knows what colour Wednesday is.

Independent women must expect more of themselves, since neither men nor other more conventionally domesticated women will hope for anything, or expect any result other than utter failure.

It's because I'm a feminist that I can't stand women limiting other women's imaginations. It really makes me angry.

Narrative is one of the best intoxicants or tranquilisers.

Only write to me, write to me, I love to see the hop and skip and sudden starts of your ink.

Do I do as false prophets do and puff air into simulacra? Am I a Sorcerer--like Macbeth's witches--mixing truth and lies in incandescent shapes? Or am I a kind of very minor scribe of a prophetic Book--telling such truth as in me lies, with aid of such fiction as I acknowledge mine, as Prospero acknowledged Caliban.

Coherence and closure are deep human desires that are presently unfashionable. But they are always both frightening and enchantingly desirable. "Falling in love," characteristically, combs the appearances of the word, and of the particular lover's history, out of a random tangle and into a coherent plot.