I Find A Great Deal Of Comfort

If You Lie To Your Husband - Even About Something So Banal As How Much You Drink - Each Lie Is A Brick In A Wall Going Up Between You, And When He Tells You He Loves You, It's Deflected Away.

I Don't Have A Copy Of My Books, And The Degree To Which I Never Read Them Is Profound. I Never Look.

Mother’s Particular Devils Had Remained Mysterious To Me For Decades. So Had Her Past. Few Born Liars Ever Intentionally Embark In Truth’s Direction, Even Those Who Believe That Such A Journey Might Axiomatically Set Them Free.

I Find A Great Deal Of Comfort And Care In My Faith And Prayer. I'd Sooner Do Without Air Than Prayer.

I'm Not Nearly Smart Enough Or Imaginative Enough To Tackle The Novel Form. Never Happen.