I Don't Write On Topics That Require

In My Whole Life, I've Never Vomited From Seeing Something Disgusting. Does It Really Even Happen, Outside Of Movies And Tv? I Believe It May Be A Myth.

It Is The Mind That Speaks A Woman's Heart, Not The Vaginal Walls.

I Began Thinking About My Skeleton, This Solid, Beautiful Thing Inside Me That I Would Never See.

You Won't See Me Writing About Particle Physics, Or Even Planetary Geology, Or Chemistry. I Practically Failed Chemistry, And If I Had To Write A Book In Any Of Those Areas, I Don't Think It Would Go Well.

One Young Woman's Tribute Describes Unwrapping Her Cadaver's Hands And Being Brought Up Short By The Realization That The Nails Were Painted Pink. "the Pictures In The Anatomy Atlas Did Not Show Nail Polish", She Wrote. "did You Choose The Color? Did You Think That I Would See It? I Wanted To Tell You About The Inside Of Your Hands. I Want You To Know You Are Always There When I See Patients. When I Palpate An Abdomen, Yours Are The Organs I Imagine. When I Listen To A Heart, I Recall Holding Your Heart.