“Brush those tears from your eyesAnd try and realizeThat from now onI'll always be true.I went awayBut I didn't mean to stayAnd I will regret it until my dying day.”

“Writers are always anxious, always on the run--from the telephone, from responsibilities, from the distractions of the world.”

“Love . . . is like nature, but in reverse; first it fruits, then it flowers, then it seems to wither, then it goes deep, deep down into its burrow, where no one sees it, where it is lost from sight, and ultimately people die with that secret buried inside their souls.”

“I crossed the room, and what you did was to feel my hair over and over again and in different ways, touch it, with the palm of your hand... felt it, strands of hair, with your fingers, touched it as if it were cloth, the way a child touches its favorite surfaces.”

“We all leave one another. We die, we change - it's mostly change - we outgrow our best friends; but even if I do leave you, I will have passed on to you something of myself; you will be a different person because of knowing me; it's inescapable...”

“The vote means nothing to women. We should be armed.”

“I knew I had done something awful. I had killed love, before I even knew the enormity of what love meant.”