No Darkness Lasts Forever. And

Living, Being In The World, Was A Much Greater And Stranger Thing Than She Had Ever Dreamed.

Virginity Is Now A Mere Preamble Or Waiting Room To Be Got Out Of As Soon As Possible; It Is Without Significance.

I Do Not Care What Comes After; I Have Seen The Dragons On The Wind Of Morning.

My Great-aunt. . . . Said Nobody Under 18 Had Any Business Reading Dickens. . . . She Was Right.

I Think There Is No Way To Write About Being Alone. To Write Is To Tell Something To Somebody To Communicate To Others. . . . Solitude Is Noncommunication, The Absence Of Others, The Presence Of A Self Sufficient To Itself.