As Soon As A Man And Woman

Row, Row, Row Your Boat. Gently Down The Stream. Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Life Is But A Dream.

I Felt In Him What Women Feel In Men, Something So Tender, Swollen, Tyrannical, Absurd; I Would Never Take The Consequences Of Interfering With It.

Moments Of Kindness And Reconciliation Are Worth Having, Even If The Parting Has To Come Sooner Or Later.

It's Not Possible To Advise A Young Writer Because Every Young Writer Is So Different. You Might Say, "read," But A Writer Can Read Too Much And Be Paralyzed. Or, "don't Read, Don't Think, Just Write," And The Result Could Be A Mountain Of Drivel. If You're Going To Be A Writer You'll Probably Take A Lot Of Wrong Turns And Then One Day Just End Up Writing Something You Have To Write, Then Getting It Better And Better Just Because You Want It To Be Better, And Even When You Get Old And Think, "there Must Be Something Else People Do," You Won't Be Able To Quit.

In Dreams You Can Have The Feeling That You've Had This Dream Before, That You Have This Dream Over And Over Again, And You Know That It's Really Nothing That Simple. You Know That There's A Whole Underground System That You Call 'dreams,' Having Nothing Better To Call Them, And That This System Is Not Like Roads Or Tunnels But More Like A Live Body Network, All Coiling And Stretching, Unpredictable But Finally Familiar - Where You Are Now, Where You've Always Been.