Murder me with bombs you poor lonely sod I will only build myself again and stronger. I am too stupid to know better I am a woman built on the wreckage of myself.

This life is a deafening roar but listen. You could hear a pin drop.

People who fill you with positivity, who make us see the brighter side of life are our best friends. Cultivate them, hang on to them and never let them go.

Not easy, not at all for everyone to see the beauty of one's self/soul. It's all about money, nothing else.

When loving with human love one may pass from love to hatred, but divine love cannot change.

Few people know how to be old.

It is only the dead who do not return.

"Lights," I said softly. This had become my favorite word over the past week. In my mind, it had become synonymous with freedom.

I don't listen to music, actually. Obviously I go to clubs; I stand in elevators; a lot of my friends are musicians; I hear music all the time. But I don't have my own collection of music.

There are days when the great are near us, when there is no frown on their brow, no condescension even; when they take us by the hand, and we share their thought.

Sometimes I think that novelists suffer from P.C.S.: Perpetual Childhood Syndrome.

We often get so busy "sawing" (producing results) that we forget to "sharpen our saw" (maintain or increase our capacity to produce results in the future).