People who truly love us can be divided into two categories: those who understand us, and those who forgive us our worst sins. Rarely do you find someone capable of both.

The fact that I’m silent doesn’t mean I have nothing to say.

You have to walk carefully in the beginning of love; the running across fields into your lover's arms can only come later when you're sure they won't laugh if you trip.

If you are very lucky, you're allowed to be in certain places during just the right season of your life: by the sea for the summer when you're seven or eight and full of the absolute need to swim until dark and exhaustion close their hands together, cupping you in between.

The first great real intimacy between two people begins when secrets are told.

I write about what interests me. It's very dangerous when you try to satisfy an audience.

Old people are often impatient, but for what?