There is no more defiant denial of one man's ability to possess one woman exclusively than the prostitute who refuses to redeemed.

No sooner do we think we have assembled a comfortable life than we find a piece of ourselves that has no place to fit in.

The perceptions of middle age have their own luminosity.

The work of adult life is not easy. As in childhood, each step presents not only new tasks of development but requires a letting go of the techniques that worked before. With each passage some magic must be given up, some cherished illusion of safety and comfortably familiar sense of self must be cast off, to allow for the greater expansion of our distinctiveness.

When men reach their sixties and retire, they go to pieces. Women go right on cooking.

The source of continuing aliveness was to find your passion and pursue it, with whole heart and single mind.

My mother had demonstrated that the best way to defeat the numbing ambivalence of middle age is to surprise yourself - by pulling off some cartwheel of thought or action never even imagined at a younger age.