Feminism Is Such An Incredibly Awkward Word

You Must Never Believe Everything They Say About A Person. Generally Speaking, Most Of It Will Be Lies, Half-truths At Best.

Some People Spend Their Whole Lives Looking For Themselves, Yet Our Self Is The One Thing We Surely Cannot Lose (how Like A Cheap Philosopher I Am Become, Staying In This Benighted Place). From The Moment We Are Conceived It Is The Pattern In Our Blood And Our Bones Are Printed Through With It Like Sticks Of Seaside Rock. Nora, On The Other Hand, Says That She’s Surprised Anyone Knows Who They Are, Considering That Every Cell And Molecule In Our Bodies Has Been Replaced Many Times Over Since We Were Born.

When I'm Writing, My Neural Pathways Get Blocked. I Can't Read. I Can Barely Hold A Conversation Without Forgetting Words And Names. I Wish I Could Wear The Same Clothes And Eat The Same Food Each Day.

I Think About Death A Lot, I Really Do, Because I Can't Believe I Won't Exist. It's The Ego Isn't It? I Feel That I Should Retreat Into A Better Form Of Zen Buddhism Than This Kind Of Ego-dominated Thing. But I Don't Know, I Mean, I Want To Come Back As A Tree But I Suspect That It's Just Not Going To Happen, Is It?

Hindsight's A Wonderful Thing. If We All Had It There Would Be No History To Write About.