A woman asks little of love: only that she be able to feel like a heroine.

We have a terror of seeming to exert ourselves, lest it be noticed that we exerted ourselves and did not succeed.

Affairs are just as disillusioning as marriage, and much less restful.

The neurotic thinks himself both Hamlet and Claudius, in a world that belongs to Polonius.

Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones.

My doctor is nice; every time I see him, I'm ashamed of what I think of doctors in general.

No one ever loved anyone the way that person wanted to be loved.