Food is a profound subject and one, incidentally, about which no writer lies.

How rarely can happiness be really innocent and not triumphant, not an insult to the deprived.

I think being a woman is like being Irish. Everyone says you're important and nice, but you take second place all the same.

As we live our precarious lives on the brink of the void, constantly coming closer to a state of nonbeing, we are all too often aware of our fragitlity.

Art and psychoanalysis give shape and meaning to life and that is why we adore them, but life as it is lived has no shape and meaning.

Perhaps misguided moral passion is better than confused indifference.

Not to have been born is undoubtedly best, but sound sleep is second best.