There Are So Many Ways

Then I Turned The Page And At The Top It Said Things I Miss About M And There Was A List Of 15 Things, And The First Was The Way He Holds Things. I Did Not Understand How You Can Miss The Way Somebody Holds Things.

Better To Try And Fail Than Not To Try At All

One Is Always Changing. I Don't Want To Write The Same Book And I Couldn't, Because I'm A Different Person.

He Spoke Of Human Solitude, About The Intrinsic Loneliness Of A Sophisticated Mind, One That Is Capable Of Reason And Poetry But Which Grasps At Straws When It Comes To Understanding Another, A Mind Aware Of The Impossibility Of Absolute Understanding. The Difficulty Of Having A Mind That Understands That It Will Always Be Misunderstood.

A Couple Months After My Heart Attack, Fifty-seven Years After I'd Given It Up, I Started To Write Again. I Did It For Myself Alone, Not For Anyone Else, And That Was The Difference. It Didn't Matter If I Found The Words, And More Than That, I Knew It Would Be Impossible To Find The Right Ones.