These Are Frightening Times...when She Feels Herself

The Larger Loneliness Of Our Lives Evolves From Our Unwillingness To Spend Ourselves, Stir Ourselves. We Are Always Damping Down Our Inner Weather, Permitting Ourselves The Comforts Of Postponement, Of Rehearsals

It's Hard Work Being A Person, You Have To Do It Every Single Day.

It Occurs To Her That She Should Record This Flash Of Insight In Her Journal - Otherwise She Is Sure To Forget, For She Is Someone Who Is Always Learning And Forgetting And Obliged To Learn Again.

The Recounting Of A Life Is A Cheat...even Our Own Stories Are Obscenely Distorted.

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.