What shall he fear that does not fear death.
The rumble of the life outside was like the sound of the sea which was rising gradually around her.
I would never be part of anything. I would never really belong anywhere, and I knew it, and all my life would be the same, trying to belong, and failing. Always something would go wrong. I am a stranger and I always will be, and after all I didn’t really care.
My life, which seems so simple and monotonous, is really a complicated affair of cafés where they like me and cafés where they don't, streets that are friendly, streets that aren't, rooms where I might be happy, rooms where I shall never be, looking-glasses I look nice in, looking-glasses I don't, dresses that will be lucky, dresses that won't, and so on.
All of writing is a huge lake. There are great rivers that feed the lake, like Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky. And then there are mere trickles, like Jean Rhys. All that matters is feeding the lake. I don't matter. The lake matters. You must keep feeding the lake.
Now I no longer wish to be loved, beautiful, happy or successful. I want one thing and one thing only - to be left alone.
You can pretend for a long time, but one day it all falls away and you are alone. We are alone in the most beautiful place in the world.
I always think it's really hard if you are Asian or Chinese to be really in Hollywood. There are not so many really great characters for you.
Anything made out of destructible matter Infinite time would have devoured before. But if the atoms that make and replenish the world Have endured through the immense span of the past Their natures are immortal-that is clear. Never can things revert to nothingness!
I never know where I'm headed when I'm working on a book.
It's love when someone can touch you without using their hands.