I Don't Have The Life Of A

We Forgive And Forget. At Least I Forgive And He Forgets.

People Said Things They Didn't Mean All The Time. Everybody Else In The World Seemed Able To Factor It In. But Not Lena. Why Did She Believe The Things People Said? Why Did She Cling To Them So Literally? Why Did She Think She Knew People When She Clearly Didn't? Why Did She Imagine That The World Didn't Change, When It Did? Maybe She Didn't Change. She Believed What People Said And She Stayed The Same." (lena, 211)

She Thought She Would Know When It Happened. But Now, As She Looked Around, She Wondered If It Was Really Like That At All. Maybe It Happened In A Million Different Ways, When You Were Thinking Of It And You Weren't. Maybe There Was No Gap, No Jump, No Chasm. You Didn't Forget Yourself All At Once. Maybe You Just Looked Around One Time Or Another And You Thought, Hey. And There You Were.

Sometimes He Felt Sure That The Key To Happiness Was A Poor Memory.

I Do Believe That Characters In Novels Belong To Their Writers And Their Readers Pretty Equally. I've Learned A Lot Of Things About The Characters I Write From People Who Read About Them. Readers Expand Them In Ways I Don't Think Of And Take Them To Places I Can't Go.