Everything we achieve is ephemeral. We have it, and then the next second it's gone. You had that record, and you may lose that record. Or you may defend it and lose it in two years all over again. I wish you'd accept it.

Потому что ты еще не тот, кем однажды станешь.

Я задавалась вопросом, зачем кому-то строить что-либо из песка, если завтра его не станет, и в итоге тебе нечем будет похвастаться.

One of the great injustices of this rigged world we live in is that women are considered to be depleting with age and men are somehow deepening.

Some men's childhoods are permitted to last forever, but women are so often reminded that there is work to be done.

We live in a world where exceptional women have to sit around waiting for mediocre men.

«You are perfect, even in your imperfection»

I love the way the world has aged me

Я задавалась вопросом, зачем кому-то строить что-либо из песка, если завтра его не станет, и в итоге тебе нечем будет похвастаться.

«You were not born that person. You were born to become that person»

«If I say your hair is purple, does that mean it’s purple?”

Do not let what anyone says about you determine how you feel about yourself

«We cannot ruin everything. Because tennis is not everything»

«Eres perfecta, incluso en tu imperfección.»

«Вы совершенны, даже в своем несовершенстве.»

It is my responsibility to take care of myself,” I tell him. “Whether I win or lose. That’s on me.”
My father shakes his head with a smile. “It will never matter,” he says, “whose responsibility is what. My heart hurts when you hurt because you are my heart.

Carrie, your body, your skills, they always had an expiration date. And it is now. You are thirty-one. It is time.”
“I don’t know about that. Maybe it is. But maybe it’s not.”
“It is.”
“You already have another player lined up,” I said. “You’ve already decided.”
“It does not matter. Your body is done, Carrie.

Every time you get out on that court, you must play a better tennis game than you played the time before. Did you play your best game of tennis today?”
“No,” I said.
“Next time, I want you to beat yourself. Every day you must beat the day before.

Do not let what anyone says about you determine how you feel about yourself.

When did I lose that? The delight of success? When did winning become something I needed in order to survive? Something I did not enjoy having, so much as panic without?