The art of life is to deal with one's problems as they arise; rather than destoy your spirit by worrying about them too far in advance.

Yet a simple ceremony in an English church, with no jewels, no brilliant company, no crown, could have made her the happiest woman in the world, providing the right man had shared that ceremony with her.

She approached me with enough sex appeal to stampede a businessmen’s lunch and tilted her head to finger a stray, but not very stray, tendril of softly glowing hair. Her smile was tentative, but could be persuaded to be nice.

When I am near the end of a book, I have to sleep in the same room with it.

Written By Joan Didion

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