Where Joy In An Old Pencil Is

I Am Realizing Once And For All The Difference As Far As I Am Concerned Of Women And Men And The Necessity For Both. With A Man, However Tender He Is, One Is Feeding Him - One Is Always And Eternally Understanding, Mothering, Supplying Him With Faith In Himself (not In You).

A Body Without Bones Would Be A Limp Impossible Mess, So A Day Without Steady Routine Would Be Disruptive And Chaotic.

Anyone Who Is Going To Be A Writer Knows Enough At Fifteen To Write Several Novels.

We Are All Jellyfish, Too Pitiful And Too Afraid Of Being Disliked To Be Honest.

In The Novel Or The Journal You Get The Journey. In A Poem You Get The Arrival.