Most of life is so dull it is not worth discussing, and it is dull at all ages. When we change our brand of cigarette, move to a new neighborhood, subscribe to a different newspaper, fall in and out of love, we are protesting in ways both frivolous and deep against the not to be diluted dullness of day-to-day living.

I've got something inside of me, peasantlike and stubborn, and I'm in it till the end of the race.

I know the next best thing is often the very best.

The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love, having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface.

I used to spend all of my time projecting. I was never in the moment. It was always tomorrow or next week or two months from now. That was one of the reasons I always had this sense of anxiety.

It should take you about four seconds to walk from here to the door. I'll give you two.

I am always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods.