I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.
When I read a book, I put in all the imagination I can, so that it is almost like writing the book as well as reading it - or rather, it is like living it. It makes reading so much more exciting
And who says you always have to understand things? You can like them without understanding them -- like 'em better sometimes.
People do look different with their eyes closed, their features seem so much more sculptured.
Is that branch worrying you? Simon asked her. Would you like to change places? I hope you wouldn’t because your hair looks so nice against the leaves
I only want to write. And there's no college for that except life.
Certain unique books seem to be without forerunners or successors as far as their authors are concerned. Even though they may profoundly influence the work of other writers, for their creator they're...
Your pain and anger will pass, but the guilt would remain with you for always.
She is a famous artists' model who claims to have been christened Topaz - even if this is true there is no law to make a woman stick to a name like that.
Perhaps watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can.
I suddenly knew that religion, God - something beyond everyday life - was there to be found, provided one is really willing. And I saw that though what I felt in the church was only imagination, it wa...
Everything in the least connected with him has value for me; if someone even mentions his name it is like a little present to me-and I long to mention it myself
I have found that sitting in a place where you have never sat before can be inspiring.
That little glow of comfort lasted me right through the evening but was gone when I woke up next morning. Wakings are the worst times--almost before my eyes are open a great weight seems to roll on to...
Time takes the ugliness and horror out of death and turns it into beauty.
The thought came to me that perhaps it is the loving that counts, not the being loved in return - that perhaps true loving can never know anything but happiness.
People's clothes ought to be buried with them.
Miserable people cannot afford to dislike each other
It is odd how different a house feels when one is alone in it.
I wonder if there isn't a catch about having plenty of money? Does it eventually take the pleasure out of things?