Poison And Medicine Are Often The Same

You Look Invincible,' My Mother Said One Night. I Loved These Times, When We Seemed To Feel The Same Thing. I Turned To Her, Wrapped In My Thin Gown, And Said: I Am.

Everyday He Got Up. Before Sleep Wore Off, He Was Who He Used To Be. Then, As His Consciousness Woke, It Was As If Poison Seeped In. At First He Couldn't Even Get Up. He Lay There Under A Heavy Weight. But Then Only Movment Could Save Him, And He Moved And He Moved And He Moved, No Movement Being Enough To Make Up For It. The Guilt On Him, The Hand Of God Pressing Down On Him, Saying, You Were Not There When Your Daughter Needed You.

Loss Could Be Used As A Measure Of Beauty In A Woman.

It's Something That I Know How To Do Because I Taught For A Very Long Time, So I Can Do It, And I Feel A Responsibility To Do It - For Instance, In This Situation, Where I'm Touring Specifically For This Period Of Time. But Most Writers Are Not Public People. There Are A Few Writers Out There Who Really Enjoy It And Are Good At It, And Can Both Work And Do That At The Same Time, But I'm Not One Of Those People.

After Telling The Hard Facts To Anyone From Lover To Friend, I Have Changed In Their Eyes. Often It Is Awe Or Admiration, Sometimes It Is Repulsion, Once Or Twice It Has Been Fury Hurled Directly At Me For Reasons I Remain Unsure Of.