This Is Why I Read Novels: So

The Scolding Voice Is Her Own, So Abrasive And Quick, Yet So Powerless To Move Her.

So This Is Where The Years Of Maturity Deliver Us - To This Needy, Selfish, Unwieldy Wish To Be Somebody Else's First And Primal Other.

A Woman's Life Isn't Worth A Plateful Of Cabbage If She Hasn't Felt Life Stir Under Her Heart. Taking A Little One To Nurse, Watching Him Grow To Manhood, That's What Love Is.

In A Long And Healthy Life, Which Is What Most Of Us Have, There Is Plenty Of Time.

Our Friendship Is Made Up Of These Brief Frenzied Exchanges, But The Quality Of Our Conversation, For All Its Feverish Outpouring, Is Genuine.