Whatever The Hell I Am, I Am

Whatever The Hell I Am, I Am Me.

The Bitterness Of Joy Lies In The Knowledge That Is Cannot Last. Nor Should Joy Last Beyond A Certain Season, For, After That Season, Even Joy Would Become Merely Habit.

At An Early School, When I Was About 5, They Asked What We Wanted To Be When We Grew Up. Everyone Said Silly Things, And I Said I Wanted To Be An Actress. So That Was What I Wanted To Be, But What I Was, Of Course, Was A Writer.

He Sat By Her, Watching Every Gesture She Made, As If He Would Paint Her Portrait Afterward.

I Submitted Manuscripts To Publishers. This Was Not So Much A Feeling That I Should Be Published As A Wish To Escape The Feared And Hated Drudgery Of Normal Work.