People Are Scared To Death Of Dying.

My Relatives Used To Laugh When I Talked Of Being A Writer.

I Am Not Alone At All, I Thought. I Was Never Alone At All. And That, Of Course, Is The Message Of Christmas. We Are Never Alone. Not When The Night Is Darkest, The Wind Coldest, The World Seemingly Most Indifferent. For This Is Still The Time God Chooses.

I Have Been Constantly Betrayed And Deceived All My Life.

There Is No Solid Satisfaction In Any Career For A Woman Like Myself. There Is No Home, No True Freedom, No Hope, No Joy, No Expectation For Tomorrow, No Contentment. I Would Rather Cook A Meal For A Man And Bring Him His Slippers And Feel Myself In The Protection Of His Arms Than Have All The Citations And Awards And Honors I Have Received Worldwide, Including The Ribbon Of Legion Of Honor And My Property And My Bank Accounts. They Mean Nothing To Me. And I Am Only One Among The Millions Of Sad Women Like Myself.

If They Can't Do It In California, It Can't Be Done Anywhere.