To Be Human Is To Be In

It Was Hard To Reassure Grown-ups When You Weren't Certain Yourself What You Were Feeling And Thinking—when Thoughts Dissolved Before You Could Name Them.

Families Hold Each Other In An Iron Grip Of Definition. One Must Break The Grip, Somehow.

Literature Is The Province Of Imagination, And Stories, In Whatever Guise, Are Meditations On Life.

A Lie Hides The Truth. A Story Tries To Find It.

There Was No Way To Grasp The Reality Of The Present Which Slid Away Each Second, Invisible As Air; Reality Only Existed After The Fact, In One's Vision Of The Past.