My mother said the cure for thinking too much about yourself was helping somebody who was worse off than you.

I didn't know what I was doing in New York.

To look at her, you might not guess that inside she is laughing and crying, at her own stupidities and luckiness, and at the strange enigmatic ways of the world which she will spend lifetime trying to learn and understand.

Worse even than your maddening song, your silence.

So I kiss him, and there is the great dark sea ahead.

I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.

Everything people did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end.