I had been alone more than I could have been had I gone by myself.

I do not know who I am, where I am going - and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions.

The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull.

It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world.

The woman is perfected. Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment.

When I fell out of the light, I entered The stomach of indifference, the wordless cupboard.

I had always imagined myself hitching up on to my elbows on the delivery table after it was all over - dead white, of course, with no makeup and from the awful ordeal, but smiling and radiant, with my hair down to my waist, and reaching out for my first little squirmy child and saying its name, whatever it was.