A Woman Whose Smile Is Open And

My Mother Had Died When I Wrote My First Book. I Was Twenty-seven, So It Was Right At The Beginning Of My Writing Life. I Don't Know If She Had Lived, If I Would Have Done It, Certainly Not Quite Like I Did. But, You Can't Rethink It. You Wrote What You Wrote, It Meant Something To Other People, And That's Your Good.

Decay Is Quiet But Ghastly, Explosion Is Dramatic And Dreadful. There's Not Much To Choose Between The Two Of Them In Reality, And Most Of Our Lives Have Sufficient Of Both.

I Think Our Material Is Our Lives. That's Part Of Being A Modern Writer, And We Have To Use It.

People Always Tell Me Either A. You Love Him. B. You Hate Him. My Usual Answer? C. All Of The Above.

There Is Cruelty In Divorce. There Is Cruelty In Forced Or Unfortunate Marriage. We Will Continue To Cry At Weddings Because We Know How Bittersweet, How Fragile Is The Truth. We Will Always Need Legal Divorce Just As An Emergency Escape Hatch Is Crucial In Every Submarine. No Sense, However, In Denying That After Every Divorce Someone Will Be Running Like A Cat, Tin Cans Tied To Its Tail: Spooked And Slowed Down.