When you have to face up to the fact that marriage to the man you love is really over, that’s very tough, sheer agony. In that kind of harrowing situation, I always go away and...

Maybe, in the final analysis, they saw me as something I wasn’t and I tried to turn them into something they could never be. I loved them all but maybe I never understood any of...

Go fuck yourself,” I replied, always the lady. “I’m staying here.

Great idea,” I said. “Call the police. Call the fucking police.

Then, aided by the booze, like a fool I tossed off one of those throwaway lines that would have been better thrown away. “Ah, Frank! I thought you were going to be down here fucking...

I feel like a nineteen forties teenager at a Frank Sinatra concert! (On finally being published)