Relationships Do Not Preclude Issues Of Morality.

The Urge To Convert Experience Into A Group Of Words That Are In A Grammatical Relation To One Another Is The Most Basic, Ongoing Impulse Of My Life.

When I Sit Down To Write, I Don't Think About Writing About An Idea Or A Given Message. I Just Try To Write A Story Which Is Hard Enough.

She Watched His Lips Forming The Words, At The Same Time She Heard Them Under Her Skin, Under Her Winter Coat, So Near And Full Of Warmth That She Felt Herself Go Hot.

And Wasn't It Terrible, How Much He Looked Forward To Those Moments, So Much So That Sometimes Even A Ride By Himself On The Subway Was The Best Part Of The Day? Wasn't It Terrible That After All The Work One Put Into Finding A Person To Spend One's Life With, After Making A Family With That Person, Even In Spite Of Missing That Person...that Solitude Was What One Relished The Most, The Only Thing That, Even In Fleeting, Diminished Doses, Kept One Sane?

I Don't Know Why, But The Older I Get The More Interested I Get In My Parents' Marriage. And It's Interesting To Be Married Yourself, Too, Because There Is An Inevitable Comparison.