To Expect Reason Is Where The Fallacy

That Afternoon I Came To Understand That One Of The Deepest Purposes Of Intellectual Sophistication Is To Provide Distance Between Us And Our Most Disturbing Personal Truths And Gnawing Fears.

At The Risk Of Appearing Disingenuous, I Don't Really Think Of Myself As 'writing Humor.' I'm Simply Reporting On The World I Observe, Which Is Frequently Hilarious.

Don't Even The Best And Most Fortunate Of Lives Hint At Other Possibilities, At A Different Kind Of Sweetness And, Yes, Bitterness Too? Isn't This Why We Can't Help Feeling Cheated, Even When We Know We Haven't Been?

I Don't Think There's A Shortage Of Material In The World. Or In My Head. I Just Pray For Continued Good Health, Because I've Got Other Stories To Tell.

Since Her Retirement From Teaching Miss Beryl's Health Had In Many Respects Greatly Improved, Despite Her Advancing Years. An Eighth-grade Classroom Was An Excellent Place To Snag Whatever Was In The Air In The Way Of Illness. Also Depression, Which, Miss Beryl Believed, In Conjunction With Guilt, Opened The Door To Illness. Miss Beryl Didn't Know Any Teachers Who Weren't Habitually Guilty And Depressed-guilty They Hadn't Accomplished More With Their Students, Depressed That Very Little More Was Possible.