Your punishment if you're a woman. Not loved enough.

Whoever's reading this, if anyone is reading it: does it matter that our old selves are lost to us as surely as the past is lost, or is it enough to know yes we lived then, and we are living now, and the connection must be there? Like a river hundreds of miles long exists both at its source and at its mouth, simultaneously?

Writing! The activity for which the only adequate bribe is the possibility of suicide, one day.

Why should I want what's good for me?' Beatrice asked him, smiling. 'Is that what you want for yourself - only what's good for you?

A writer’s life is in his work, and that is the place to find him.

Princeton is quite integrated. Women are professors at Princeton. Women are students at Princeton. That began in the 1970s.

The worst thing: to give yourself away in exchange for not enough love.