Would You Reach In The Drawer There

Wrinkles And Bones, White Hair And Diamonds: I Can't Wait.

I Don't Want To Own Anything Until I Find A Place Where Me And Things Go Together.

Traveling Wears Me Out.

June, July, All Through The Warm Months She Hibernated Like A Winter Animal Who Did Not Know Spring Had Come And Gone.

One Of The Most Difficult Things In Writing A Novel Or Anything At All Is To Choose The Point Of View From Which It's Going To Be Told.