Stirless, I Stand At The

My Principal Failing As A Writer Is The Lack Of Spontaneity; The Nuisance Of Parallel Thoughts, Second Thoughts, Third Thoughts; Inability To Express Myself Properly In Any Language Unless I Compose Every Damned Sentence In My Bath, In My Mind, At My Desk.

You See, She Had Absolutely Nowhere Else To Go.

I Have Rewritten — Often Several Times — Every Word I Have Ever Published. My Pencils Outlast Their Erasers.

Most Of The Dandelions Had Changed From Suns To Moons.

You Know, What's So Dreadful About Dying Is That You Are Completely On Your Own.