I Wondered If She Was Trying To

Some Things, You Know, If You Say Them, It Makes Them Not True?

It Doesn’t Matter How Old I Get, But As Long As I Continue To Live I’ll Always Discover Something New About Myself.

Until The Bitter End, The Emptiness Inside Her Was Hers Alone.

There's Not Much You Can Do About Time - It Just Keeps On Passing. But Experience? Don't Tell Me That. I'm Not Proud Of It, But I Don't Have Any Sexual Desire. And What Sort Of Experience Can A Writer Have If She Doesn't Feel Passion? It'd Be Like A Chef Without An Appetite.

I Don't Know How Many Good Books I Still Have In Me; I Hope There Are Another Four Or Five.