I sit there in my bed staring at the wall, feeling happy, enjoying the way the wall looks, how pink and how white it is. Pink and white, as far as I’m concerned, have never looked quite so pink and white before.

My life's actually been quite dull; it's not all that glamorous.

I wasn't just the madwoman in the attic--I was the attic itself. The past was all over me, all under me, all inside me.

Feminism is a good venue for getting yourself across as much as for getting your point across.

Sometimes I wish I could walk around with a HANDLE WITH CARE sign stuck to my forehead.

...if you feel everything intensely, ultimately you feel nothing at all.

Am I worried people will say I'm repeating myself? Sure. One thought I had was to publish it as a novel but eventually I just decided to do what I wanted to do.