It's Hard Work Being A Person, You

So This Is Where The Years Of Maturity Deliver Us - To This Needy, Selfish, Unwieldy Wish To Be Somebody Else's First And Primal Other.

This Is Why I Read Novels: So I Can Escape My Own Unrelenting Monologue.

The Scolding Voice Is Her Own, So Abrasive And Quick, Yet So Powerless To Move Her.

We Are Too Kind, Too Willing--too Unwilling Too--reaching Out Blindly With A Grasping Hand But Not Knowing How To Ask For What We Don't Even Know We Want.

I Couldn't Have Been A Novelist Without Being A Mother. It Gives You A Unique Witness Point Of The Growth Of A Personality. It Was A Kind Of Biological Component For Me That Had To Come First. My Children Gave This Other Window On The World.