Death is only a small interruption.

I was brought up among the sort of self-important women who had a husband as one has an alibi.

I am 46, and have been for some time past.

There are moments when you feel free, moments when you have energy, moments when you have hope, but you can't rely on any of these things to see you through. Circumstances do that.

You can never betray the people who are dead, so you go on being a public Jew; the dead can't answer slurs, but I'm here. I would love to think that Jesus wants me for a sunbeam, but he doesn't.

The self-fulfilled woman is far from reality.

No blame should attach to telling the truth. But it does, it does.