I Was A Late Child From My

There Is, After All, A Kind Of Happiness In Unhappiness, If It's The Right Unhappiness.

Interesting Verbs Are Seldom Very Interesting.

Robin Turned And Looked Straight Into Her. "what's Life For?" "i Don't Know." "i Don't Either. But I Don't Think It's About Winning.

Even In An Intensely Mediated World, In A World That Offers At Least The Illusion Of Radical Self-invention And Radical Freedom Of Choice, I As A Novelist Am Drawn To The Things You Can't Get Away From. Because Much Of The Promise Of Radical Self-invention, Of Defining Yourself Through This Marvelous Freedom Of Choice, It's Just A Lie. It's A Lie That We All Buy Into, Because It Helps The Economy Run.

But Nothing Disturbs The Feeling Of Specialness Like The Presence Of Other Human Beings Feeling Identically Special.