女人一生只有一个真正的悲剧，那就是她的过去属于情人，未来只属于丈夫。
There is only one real tragedy in a woman’s life. The fact that her past is always her lover, and her future invariably her husband.
I don’t ask writers about their work habits. I really don’t care. Joyce Carol Oates says somewhere that when writers ask each other what time they start working and when they finish and how much time they take for lunch, they’re actually trying to find out, ‘Is he as crazy as I am?’ I don’t need that question answered.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
当你能永远活着时，你为了什么而活？
