All acts performed in the world begin in the imagination.

All our loves are contained in all our other loves.

To offer the complexities of life as an excuse for not addressing oneself to the simpler, more manageable (trivial) aspects of daily existence is a perversity often indulged in by artists, husbands, intellectuals -- and critics of the Women's Movement.

To live exhilaratingly in and for the moment is deadly serious work, fun of the most exhausting sort

Unhappiness makes beggars or accountants of us all.

There are places one comes home to that one has never been to.

My mother was my first jealous lover.