It's always fun to walk down the street with or behind a really beautiful woman, for no reason other than to see how the world reacts to them.
Even the handsomest men do not have the same momentary effect on the world as a truly beautiful woman does.
Women are always complaining about men's fascination with breasts. But what if men were absolutely indifferent to breasts? What would women do then with these things that serve one function once or twice in a lifetime, and the rest of the time are just in the way?
Both young children and old people have a lot of time on their hands. That's probably why they get along so well.
Krakow is one of my favorite places on earth. It is a medieval city full of young people. A wonderful, striking combination.
For an adult, eating alone at McDonald's is admitting a kind of defeat.
May this house stand until an ant drinks the ocean and a tortoise circles the world.
I don't like to have to pan for gold when I read.
I have never heard anyone say This is it. I know right now is the high point of my life. It will never get any better. Only in retrospect do we recognize the best times and of course then it is too late.
It took me less than half a lifetime to realize that regret is one of the few guaranteed certainties. Sooner or later everything is touched by it, despite our naive and senseless hope that just this time we will be spared its cold hand on our heart.
Old people are often impatient, but for what?
Just write about what bites you and damn the rest.
Everyone coming out of a perfume store is smelling the back of their hand.
Coffee on an airplane always smells bad. Whenever it is served, suddenly the whole cabin stinks of it.
In Poland, my audience is all women between 18 and 30. At U.S. conventions, you have the fantasy and science fiction crowd. At Harvard you have an entirely different audience. It's so schizophrenic.
At a Boston signing, someone from the audience asked why I was so obsessed with furniture in my books. The question rattled around in my head. I had no idea that I was obsessed with furniture.
I feel like a cliche.
I find you write with one person in mind. Usually for me that one person is my wife, because she's my most severe critic and understands best what I'm trying to do.
I read less of everything now. With only fond memories of others' work, it will be interesting to give my own journal writing a try now.
I write about what interests me. It's very dangerous when you try to satisfy an audience.
