All one's life as a young woman one is on show, a focus of attention, people notice you. You set yourself up to being noticed and admired. And then, not expecting it, you become middle-aged and anonymous.

I would not be at all surprised to find out . . . that the dimensions of buildings affect us in ways we don't guess.

Things are not quite so simple always as black and white.

It was all wrong, ugly, unhappy and coloured with cynicism, but nothing was tragic, there were no moments that could change anything or anybody. From time to time the emotional lightning flashed and showed a landscape of private misery, and then — we went on dancing.

The youth do not see the old. They are not programmed to see the old, who are cancelled, negated, wiped out.

Literature is analysis after the event.

You remember with what you are at the time you are remembering.