I'm So Trying To Give Up Meat.

I Wanted To Hold Happiness In Reserve, Like A Bottle Of Champagne. I Postponed It Because I Was Afraid, Because I Overvalued It, And Then I Didn't Want To Use It Up, Because What Do You Wish For Then?

I Think I Write What's Interesting To Me, And So If I'm Reading I Like To Have A Very Thorough Idea Of A Character In A Book That's By Someone Else.

The Big Occurrences In Life, The Serious Ones, Have For Me Always Been Nearly Impossible To Recognize Because They Never Feel Big Or Serious. In The Moment, You Have To Pee, Your Arm Itches, Or What People Are Saying Strikes You As Melodramatic Or Sentimental, And It's Hard Not To Smirk. You Have A Sense Of What This Type Of Situation Should Be Like - For One Thing, All-consuming - And This Isn't It. But Then You Look Back, And It Was That; It Did Happen.

I Had The Fleeting Thought Then That We Are Each Of Us Pathetic In One Way Or Another, And The Trick Is To Marry A Person Whose Patheticness You Can Tolerate.

To Remain Alone Did Not Seem To Me A Terrible Fate, No Worse Than Being Falsely Joined To Another Person.