The Passion that one Soul hath for God cannot be judged by another.

Turning fifty ... is like flying: hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.

How could one create life with someone who represented death?

I tried to keep myself away from him by using con words like "fidelity" and "adultery", by telling myself that he would interfere with my work, that I had him I'd be too happy to write. I tried to tell myself I was hurting Bennett, hurting myself, making a spectacle of myself. I was. But nothing helped. I was possessed. The minute he walked into a room and smiled at me, I was a goner.

At times it is strangely sedative to know the extent of your own powerlessness.

I have a very sensitive nose. I identify with dogs. I understand the world through my nose.

Home is where your books are.