Her philosophy is carpe diem for herself and laissez faire for others.

Experience is not worth the getting. It's not a thing that happens pleasantly to a passive you--it's a wall that an active you runs up against.

It's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be.

Love is fragile -- she was thinking -- but perhaps the pieces are saved, the things that hovered on lips, that might have been said. The new love-words, the tenderness learned, and treasured up for the next lover.

There's no beauty without poignancy and there's no poignancy without the feeling that it's going, men, names, books, houses--bound for dust--mortal--

Work like hell! I had 122 rejection slips before I sold a story.

She confused him and hindered the flow of his ideas. Self-expression had never seemed at once so desirable and so impossible.