There is a certain age when a woman must be beautiful to be loved, and then there comes a time when she must be loved to be beautiful.

I shall live badly if I do not write, and I shall write badly if I do not live.

There are moments when you feel trapped, ill at ease. A year later the same feeling can turn out to be the theme of a book.

It seems to me that there are two kinds of trickery: the "fronts" people assume before one another's eyes, and the "front" a writer puts on the face of reality.

No woman wants a dress that another has tossed off, but in men they aren't so choosy.

I had a strong desire to write and some free time.