We lit the stove a few days ago and the entire room is filled with smoke. I prefer central heating, and I'm probably not the only one.

You can always give something, even if it is only kindness.

I want to go on living even after my death! And therefore I am grateful to God for this gift, this possibility of developing myself and of writing, of expressing all that is in me. I can shake off everything if I write; my sorrows disappear; my courage is reborn. But, and that is the great question, will I ever be able to write anything great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?

This is a photograph of me as I wish I looked all the time. Then I might have a chance of getting in Hollywood.

What I condemn are our system of values and the men who don't acknowledge how great, difficult, but ultimately beautiful women's share in society is.

Outside, you don't hear a single bird, and a deathly, oppressive silence hangs over the house and clings to me as if it were going to drag me into the deepest regions of the underworld.... I wander from room to room, climb up and down the stairs and feel like a songbird whose wings have been ripped off and who keeps hurling itself against the bars of its dark cage.

Sympathy, Love, Fortune... We all have these qualities but still tend to not use them!