We Become The Stories We

That Summer When She Was Eighteen, It Seemed Anything Could Happen, Anything At All.

She Thinks How Much More Space A Being Occupies In Life Than It Does In Death; How Much Illusion Of Size Is Contained In Gestures And Movements, In Breathing. Dead, We Are Revealed In Our True Dimensions, And They Are Surprisingly Modest.

I Don't Think Two People Could Have Been Happier Than We Have Been.

She Could Have Had A Life As Potent And Dangerous As Literature Itself.

I Have No Useful Theories About Love And Marriage.