I live alone, with cats, books, pictures, fresh vegetables to cook, the garden, the hens to feed.

I never wanted children. If I'd been deeply in love with a man and he'd wanted children, it would have been difficult.

She was a monster, but she was my monster.

Words are the part of silence that can be spoken.

I know from my own experience that suicide is not what it seems. Too easy to try to piece together the fragmented life. The spirit torn in bits so that the body follows.

One room is always enough for one person. Two rooms is not enough for two people. That is one of the conundrums in life.

Memoir ... satisfies our need for gossip and intimacy, for testimony and confessional, and in this world of spin, offers a truthful account of what it means to succeed or fail, to love and lose, to break your heart and mend it again.