I Live By Edith Whartons Rule To

You Don't Need A Reason To Forgive... If You Want To Go On With Someone, That Is What You Do.

But Then You Hear That He Can't Hear You, You See That He Can't See You. You Are Not Here--and You Haven't Even Died Yet. You See Yourself Through His Eyes, As The Generic Woman, The Skirted Symbol On The Ladies' Room Door.

We Are All Children Until Our Fathers Die.

Before College, I Hadn't Voluntarily Read Anything That Might Be Called Literature; I Didn't Think I'd Understand It; I Never Seemed To Understand My English Teacher's Interpretations Of What We Read.

I Guess Love Is The Real Suspension Of Disbelief.