The Closest Thing To Being Cared For

I Have More To Say Than Hemingway, And God Knows, I Say It Better Than Faulkner.

She Was Afraid Of These Things That Made Her Suddenly Wonder Who She Was, And What She Was Going To Be In The World, And Why She Was Standing At That Minute, Seeing A Light, Or Listening, Or Staring Up Into The Sky: Alone.

Comparing The Brooklyn That I Know With Manhattan Is Like Comparing A Comfortable And Complacent Duenna To Her More Brilliant And Neurotic Sister.

Southerners Are The More Lonely And Spiritually Estranged, I Think, Because We Have Lived So Long In An Artificial Social System That We Insisted Was Natural And Right And Just - When All Along We Knew It Wasn't.

I Was Like A Cat Always Climbing The Wrong Tree.