Nora Ephron
American culture in the mid-twentieth century produced a generation of writers who moved fluidly between print journalism and the broader entertainment industry, carrying sharp observational instincts from one form to the next. Nora Ephron was one of those writers, born on May 19, 1941, on the Upper West Side of New York City, and educated at Beverly Hills High School before going on to Wellesley College.
Ephron worked across an unusually wide range of roles throughout her career. She started out as a reporter and journalist, then built on that foundation as an essayist, humorist, novelist, and short story writer. Her voice in prose was direct and personal, and she carried that sensibility into screenwriting and eventually into directing and producing films as well. She also maintained a blog, adding yet another format to a body of work that already spanned more media than most of her contemporaries managed. As a playwright, she extended her reach to the stage, making her one of the few American writers of her era to work seriously and professionally across journalism, fiction, film, and theater all at once.
Her work as a screenwriter drew formal recognition from the film industry. She received the BAFTA Award for Best Original Screenplay, one of the more competitive honors in the field, and was also given the Crystal Award. Those acknowledgments placed her among the screenwriters whose contributions the industry saw fit to single out for distinction.
Ephron died in Manhattan on June 26, 2012. By the time of her death she had accumulated credits as a writer, journalist, reporter, essayist, novelist, short story writer, playwright, screenwriter, film director, film producer, blogger, and humorist — a list that reflects not just range but sustained professional output across each of those categories. The BAFTA for Best Original Screenplay remains among the most concrete markers of how her peers in the film world assessed her screenwriting specifically.
Quotes by Nora Ephron
Nora Ephron's insights on:

You take someone to the airport, it's clearly the beginning of the relationship. That's why I have never taken anyone to the airport at the beginning of a relationship.

The dreams break into a million tiny pieces. The dream dies. Which leaves you with a choice: you can settle for reality, or you can go off, like a fool, and dream another dream.

Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home, I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic.

I have always thought it was a terrible shame that the women's movement didn't realise how much easier it was to reach people by making them laugh than by shaking a fist and saying, 'Don't you see how oppressed you are?'

I'm a good cook, and I look at something like 'Iron Chef' and think, 'It's a good thing I already know how to cook' - because I would never think I could do it if I watched these shows.

I think when you get older, things come along that you know are a test in some way of your ability to stay with it. And when e-mail came along, I was just going to fall in love with it. And I did. I can't believe it now - it's like one of those ex-husbands that you think, 'What was I thinking?'



