The way to recognize a dead word is that it exudes boredom.

The bed must be a beautiful place, not only because you make love there but because you dream there as well.

Things aren't the way they are, they're the way you are

Writers do not live one life, they live two. There is the living and then there is the writing. There is the second tasting, the delayed reaction.

I am a failure as a writer. The publishers won't publish me, the bookshops won't carry my books, the critics won't write about me. I am excluded from all anthologies, and completely ignored.

Last night I wept. I wept because the process by which I have become woman was painful. I wept because I was no longer a child with a child's blind faith. I wept because my eyes were opened to reality....I wept because I could not believe anymore and I love to believe. I can still love passionately without believing. That means I love humanly. I wept because I have lost my pain and I am not yet accustomed to its absence.

You don't find love, it finds you. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, and what's written in the stars.