What's agitating about solitude is the inner voice telling you that you should be mated to somebody, that solitude is a mistake. The inner voice doesn't care about who you find. It just keeps pestering you, tormenting you.

Try to get your characters into interesting trouble. Allow your characters to misbehave. Let them stay out after 11.

When all the details fit in perfectly, something is probably wrong with the story.

My God, the corruptions of literature. It put all these notions into our heads.

You know, there's something heartsick about parties like this. Look at us. We're all pretending to be smart, as if intelligence were the cure for our anguish.

I don't think that most women have to prove that they're real women. You live long enough, you graduate to being real.

You are a real find and you keep me satisfied, up to a point. After all, I'm a malcontent and you can't change that.