It's funny, he said, have you ever thought that a girl's clothes cost more than the girl inside them?

It was like letting go and falling back into water and seeing yourself grinning up through the water, your face like a mask, and seeing the bubbles coming up as if you were trying to speak from under the water. And how do you know what it's like to try to speak from under water when you're drowned?

Not that she objected to solitude. Quite the contrary. She had books, thank Heaven, quantities of books. All sorts of books.

All of a writer that matters is in the book or books. It is idiotic to be curious about the person.

There are always two deaths, the real one and the one people know about.

He had discovered that people who allow themselves to be blown about by the winds of emotion and impulse are always unhappy people.

I hadn't bargained for this. I didn't think it would be like this - shabby clothes, worn-out shoes, circles under your eyes, your hair getting straight and lanky, the way people look at you. ... I didn't think it would be like this