When You Are A Child You Are

I Took The Red Dress Down And Put It Against Myself. 'does It Make Me Look Intemperate And Unchaste?' I Said.

Soon He'll Come In Again And Kiss Me, But Differently. He'll Be Different And So I'll Be Different. It'll Be Different. I Thought, 'it'll Be Different, Different. It Must Be Different.

The Rumble Of The Life Outside Was Like The Sound Of The Sea Which Was Rising Gradually Around Her.

I Often Want To Cry. That Is The Only Advantage Women Have Over Men — At Least They Can Cry.

All Of Writing Is A Huge Lake. There Are Great Rivers That Feed The Lake, Like Tolstoy Or Dostoyevsky. And Then There Are Mere Trickles, Like Jean Rhys. All That Matters Is Feeding The Lake. I Don't Matter. The Lake Matters. You Must Keep Feeding The Lake.