Why Do I Write? The

Six Months Of Looking For A Job Had Made Me An Expert At Picking Out The People Who, Like Me, Were Hurrying Up To Wait - In Somebody's Outer Anything For A Chance To Make It Through Their Inner Doors To Prove That You Could Type Two Words A Minute, Or Not Drool On Your Blouse While Answering Difficult Questions About Your Middle Initial And Date Of Birth.

It's As If I've Arrived In A Place Where It's All Spirit And No Body -- An Overwhelming Sense Of Calm . . . I Actually Began To Feel Blessed.

Spoiled. That's All It's About - Can't Live Without This, Can't Live Without That. You Can Live Without Anything You Weren't Born With, And You Can Make It Through On Even Half Of That.

One Should Be Able To Return To The First Sentence Of A Novel And Find The Resonances Of The Entire Work.

Old As She Was, She Still Missed Her Daddy Sometimes.