But We're Lost In A

Maybe That, Really, Is As Good A Definition As Any Of An Artist In The World: A Ruthless Person.

I Wanted To Write A Voice That For Me, As A Reader, Had Been Missing From The Chorus: The Voice Of An Angry Woman.

I Think That One Of The Great Things About Spending - As In My Case - Twenty-something Years With Somebody Is That At Some Point You Do Love The Actual Person. They're There Little By Little, The Outline Is Really Pretty Clear.

I've Always Felt That If A Project Seems Easy, Or Even Attainable, Why Pursue It? I'll Always Find The Hardest Path.

And Then, Into The Fantasy, As Into A Dream, Would Come The Thought: It's Not Like This Anymore; The World Has Changed. Just The Way, Even At That Time Fully Two Years After My Mother's Death, I'd Catch Myself Thinking About Her As Alive; And Would Suddenly Remember, An Admonitory Finger Of Grief Upon My Breast, That She Was Gone.