So This Is Where The

Go For Long Walks, Indulge In Hot Baths, Question Your Assumptions, Be Kind To Yourself, Live For The Moment, Loosen Up, Scream, Curse The World, Count Your Blessings, Just Let Go, Just Be.

The Recounting Of A Life Is A Cheat...even Our Own Stories Are Obscenely Distorted.

A Childhood Is What Anyone Wants To Remember Of It. It Leaves Behind No Fossils, Except Perhaps In Fiction.

Why Should Men Be Allowed To Strut Under The Privilege Of Their Life Adventures, Wearing Them Like A Breast Full Of Medals, While Women Went All Gray And Silent Beneath The Weight Of Theirs?

Bookish People, Who Are Often Maladroit People, Persist In Thinking They Can Master Any Subtlety So Long As It's Been Shaped Into Acceptable Expository Prose.