Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: 'I'll go take a hot bath.

What is so real as the cry of a child?

I felt wise and cynical as all hell.

I felt overstuffed and dull and disappointed, the way I always do the day after Christmas.

She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.

Antoine St. Exupery once mourned the loss of a man and the secret treasures that he held inside him. I loved Exupery; I will read him again, and he will talk to me, not being dead, or gone. Is that life after death — mind living on paper and flesh living in offspring? Maybe. I do not know.

I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks.