I'm Concerned About The Unknowability

So This Is Where The Years Of Maturity Deliver Us - To This Needy, Selfish, Unwieldy Wish To Be Somebody Else's First And Primal Other.

I Couldn't Have Been A Novelist Without Being A Mother. It Gives You A Unique Witness Point Of The Growth Of A Personality. It Was A Kind Of Biological Component For Me That Had To Come First. My Children Gave This Other Window On The World.

The Silence Is Perfect, And Yet A Torment.

Happiness Is The Lucky Pane Of Glass You Carry In Your Head. It Takes All Your Cunning Just To Hang On To It, And Once It's Smashed You Have To Move Into A Different Sort Of Life.

It's Hard Work Being A Person, You Have To Do It Every Single Day.