If You Take A Frown And Turn

When I First Started, There Were Writers That I Looked Up To That I Felt Very Influenced By And Very Respectful Toward Their Work And Their Opinion Of My Work.

Pale, Nervous Girls With Black-rimmed Glasses And Blunt-cut Hair Lolled Around On Sofas, Riffling Penguin Classics Provocatively. [...] But It Wasn’t Just Intellectual Experiences—they Were Peddling Emotional Ones, Too. For Fifty Bucks, I Learned, You Could “relate Without Getting Close.” For A Hundred, A Girl Would Lend You Her Bartok Records, Have Dinner, And Then Let You Watch While She Had An Anxiety Attack.

I Am Thankful For Laughter, Except When Milk Comes Out Of My Nose.

History Is The Same Thing Over And Over Again.

She Wore A Short Skirt And A Tight Sweater And Her Figure Described A Set Of Parabolas That Could Cause Cardiac Arrest In A Yak.