If I Could Write The Perfect Novella

Nothing That Can Be, Can Come Between Me And The Full Prospect Of My Hopes.

Had It Taken Her This Long To Discover That She Lacked Some Simple Mental Trick That Everyone Else Had, A Mechanism So Ordinary That No One Ever Mentioned It, An Immediate Sensual Connection To People And Events, And To Her Own Needs And Desires? All These Years She Had Lived In Isolation Within Herself And, Strangely, From Herself, Never Wanting Or Daring To Look Back.

I Actually Find Novels That Are Determined To Be Funny At Every Turn Quite Oppressive.

How Easily This Unthinking Family Love Was Forgotten.

Above All, She Wanted To Look As Though She Had Not Given The Matter A Moment's Thought, And That Would Take Time.