I Am A Story Teller. If I

Life Is Hard . . . But We Cling To It All The Same

It’s Like Having To Make A Choice: A Blessing Or A Curse. The One Thing You Can’t Do Is Choose Neither.

It Does Not Make Sense. It Cannot Exist. It's Impossible, And If It Isn't Impossible, It's Irrelevant, And If It Isn't Either Of Those Things, It's Embarrassing.

Literary Modernism Kind Of Grew Out Of A Sense That, “oh My God! I’m Telling A Story! Oh, That Can’t Be The Case, Because I’m A Clever Person. I’m A Literary Person! What Am I Going To Do To Distinguish Myself? I Know! I’ll Write Ulysses.”

She Longed For Cutlasses, Pistols, And Brandy; She Had To Make Do With Coffee, And Pencils, And Verbs.