We, her children, are heroic, dersperate.

It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him.

Even so you have managed to live that love in the only way possible for you. Losing it before it happened.

Banality is sometimes striking.

When it's in a book I don't think it'll hurt any more ...exist any more. One of the things writing does is wipe things out. Replace them.

The thing that's between us is fascination, and the fascination resides in our being alike. Whether you're a man or a woman, the fascination resides in finding out that we're alike.

You are what you are and that fascinates me.