Live As If You Like Yourself, And

The Moon Is Always Female And So Am I Although Often In The Vale Of Razorblades I Have Wished I Could Put On And Take Off My Sex Like A Dress And Why Not?

The Anger Of The Weak Never Goes Away, Professor, It Just Gets A Little Moldy. It Molds Like A Beautiful Blue Cheese In The Dark, Growing Stronger, And More Interesting. The Poor And The Weak Die With All Their Anger Intact And Probably Those Angers Go On Growing In The Dark Of The Grave Like The Hair And The Nails.

Grandmother Hannah Comes To Me At Pesach And When I Am Lighting The Sabbath Candles. The Sweet Wine In The Cup Has Her Breath.... A Little Winter No Spring Can Melt.

Life Is The First Gift, Love Is The Second, And Understanding The Third.

Sometimes When A Character In A Novel Is Difficult For Me To Enter, I Sue Something In Myself Or In My Own Life As A Doorway Into That Character's Mind And Emotions.