In solitude we give passionate attention to our lives, to our memories, to the details around us.
Truth had run through my fingers. Every drop had escaped.
...she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.
I have sought happiness through many ages and not found it.
The beauty of the world, which is so soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
Have you any notion how many books are written about women in the course of one year? Have you any notion how many are written by men? Are you aware that you are, perhaps, the most discussed animal in the universe?