I know it's not clothes that make women beautiful or otherwise, nor beauty care, nor expensive creams, nor the distinction of costliness of their finery. I know the problem lies elsewhere. I don't know where. I only know it isn't where women think.

In a certain state of mind, all trace of feeling is banished. Whenever I remain silent in a certain way, I don't love you, have you noticed that?

There are many women who write as they think they should write - to imitate men and make a place for themselves in literature.

It’s not that you have to achieve anything, it’s that you have to get away from where you are.

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

I know all one can know when one knows nothing.

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