My marriage didn't make me sad, but it didn't make me happy either. My husband and I hardly spoke to each other. This wasn't because we were angry. We had nothing to say. I was dying of boredom.

I didn't mind being thought of as dumb. I knew I wasn't.

In life, we weep at the thought of death. In death, perhaps we weep at the thought of life.

I want to grow old without facelifts. I want to have the courage to be loyal to the face I have made.

For a long time I was scared I'd find out I was like my mother.

Before marriage, a girl has to make love to a man to hold him. After marriage, she has to hold him to make love to him.

That's the way you feel when you're beaten inside. You don't feel angry at those who've beaten you. You just feel ashamed.