Aloneness And Selfness Are Too Important To

But Writing Poems And Letters Doesn't Seem To Do Much Good.

Perhaps When We Find Ourselves Wanting Everything, It Is Because We Are Dangerously Close To Wanting Nothing.

At This Rate, I'd Be Lucky If I Wrote A Page A Day. Then I Knew What The Problem Was. I Needed Experience. How Could I Write About Life When I'd Never Had A Love Affair Or A Baby Or Even Seen Anybody Die? A Girl I Knew Had Just Won A Prize For A Short Story About Her Adventures Among The Pygmies In Africa. How Could I Compete With That Sort Of Thing?

Good To Know That If I Ever Need Attention All I Have To Do Is Die.

It Is A Terrible Thing To Be So Open: It Is As If My Heart Put On A Face And Walked Into The World.