There Will Never Come A

We Have These Earthly Bodies. We Don't Know What They Want. Half The Time, We Pretend They Are Under Our Mental Thumb, But That Is The Illusion Of The Healthy And The Protected. Of Sedate Lovers. For The Body Has Emotions It Conceives And Carries Through Without Concern For Anyone Or Anything Else. Love Is One Of Those, I Guess. Going Back To Something Very Old Knit Into The Brain As We Were Growing. Hopeless. Scorching. Ordinary.

The Greatest Wisdom Doesn't Know Itself. The Richest Plan Is Not To Have One.

It Kills Your Writing If You Try To Manipulate It With Crude Politics.

Being A Girl Didn't Really Affect Me Until I Entered Junior High And Had To Wear Skirts, Curl My Hair, And Even Get Used To Panty Hose. However, My Hatred Of Panty Hose Helped Make Me A Writer Who Only Wears Comfortable Clothes. I've Successfully Avoided Panty Hose For Most Of My Life.

She Had Always Been A Reader… But Now She Was Obsessed. Since Her Discovery Of The Book Hoard Downstairs From Her Job, She’d Been Caught Up In One Such Collection Of People And Their Doings After The Next…the Pleasure Of This Sort Of Life – Bookish, She Supposed It Might Be Called, A Reading Life – Had Made Her Isolation Into A Rich And Even Subversive Thing. She Inhabited One Consoling Or Horrifying Persona After Another…that She Was Childless And Husbandless And Poor Meant Less Once She Picked Up A Book. Her Mistakes Disappeared Into It. She Lived With An Invented Force.