Writing Was Like Digging Coal.

Where I Was Raised A Woman's Word Was Law. I Ain't Quite Outgrowed That Yet.

Men May Rise On Stepping Stones Of Their Dead Selves To Higher Things.

I Love My Work But Do Not Know How I Write It.

I Can Write Best In The Silence And Solitude Of The Night, When Everyone Has Retired.

These Critics Who Crucify Me Do Not Guess The Littlest Part Of My Sincerity. They Must Be Burned In A Blaze. I Cannot Learn From Them.