Writing Only Leads To More Writing.

I Have Found My Voice Again And The Art Of Using It.

We Only Do Well The Things We Like Doing.

My True Friends Have Always Given Me That Supreme Proof Of Devotion, A Spontaneous Aversion For The Man I Loved.

At Sixty-three Years Of Age, Less A Quarter, One Still Has Plans.

I Did Not Look For Her, Because I Was Afraid Of Dispelling The Mystery We Attach To People Whom We Know Only Casually.