Sadness Was So Claustrophobic.

Why Couldn't She Be Part Of That Family? Rent A Room In Someone Else's Life.

Writing, For Me, Means Humility. It’s A Process That Involves Fear And Doubt, Especially If You’re Writing Honestly.

Could Fulfillment Ever Be Felt As Deeply As Loss? Romantically She Decided That Love Must Surely Reside In The Gap Between Desire And Fulfillment, In The Lack, Not The Contentment. Love Was The Ache, The Anticipation, The Retreat, Everything Around It But The Emotion Itself.

All Day, The Colors Had Been Those Of Dusk, Mist Moving Like A Water Creature Across The Great Flanks Of Mountains Possessed Of Ocean Shadows And Depths.

But Then, How Could You Have Any Self-respect Knowing That You Didn't Believe In Anything Exactly? How Did You Embrace What Was Yours If You Didn't Leave Something For It? How Did You Create A Life Of Meaning And Pride?