Nostalgia Is Always Doomed And Dooming.

In A Sense, You're Always Mythologizing Your Life; It's Always An Effort To Make Yourself Epic. At Least In Fiction You Can Lie And Sort Of Justify Your Delusion About Your "epicness." But When You're Writing A Memoir, You're Trying To Make Your Life Epic And It's Not - Nobody's Life Is.

Corliss Had Never Once Considered The Fate Of Library Books. She'd Never Wondered How Many Books Go Unread. She Loved Books. How Could She Not Worry About The Unread? She Felt Like A Disorganized Scholar, An Inconsiderate Lover, An Abusive Mother, And A Cowardly Soldier.

Humor Was An Antiseptic That Cleaned The Deepest Of Personal Wounds.

Is Revenge A Circle Inside Of A Circle Inside Of A Circle?

I Remember When People Used To Think I Was Smart. I Remember When People Used To Think My Brain Was Useful. Damaged By Water, Sure. And Ready To Seizure At Any Moment. But Still Useful, And Maybe Even A Little Bit Beautiful And Sacred And Magical.