My Life Was Incoherent To Me. I

It Was Hard To Reassure Grown-ups When You Weren't Certain Yourself What You Were Feeling And Thinking—when Thoughts Dissolved Before You Could Name Them.

I Taught Writing Classes At The University Of Pennsylvania For A Number Of Years And I Realized That All You Can Do Is Encourage People And Give Them Assignments And Hope They Will Write Them.

Life Is All Getting Used To What You're Not Used To.

Literature Is The Province Of Imagination, And Stories, In Whatever Guise, Are Meditations On Life.

There Was No Way To Grasp The Reality Of The Present Which Slid Away Each Second, Invisible As Air; Reality Only Existed After The Fact, In One's Vision Of The Past.