What Other People Think Of Me Is

I Have Two Writer Daughters, And A Psychoanalyst Daughter, And A Lawyer Daughter, And They Wish We Didn't Write, I'm Sure, But We Write. If We Were A Painting Family, We Would Paint.

We Have To Recognize That It Is A Very, Very Painful Thing For People To Be Exposed To Their Social Community, To Be Exposed In The World, As Not What They Would Have Wanted To Be Seen As. This Is Very Painful And Difficult For People.

Decay Is Quiet But Ghastly, Explosion Is Dramatic And Dreadful. There's Not Much To Choose Between The Two Of Them In Reality, And Most Of Our Lives Have Sufficient Of Both.

Friendship Needs Both Confidences And Confidence In The Other's Outstretched Hand.

I Don't Really Think It Comes As A Shock To Every Writer If Somebody In Their Family Is Mad At Them. Yes, It's Very Upsetting. But It's Inherent In The Process Of Trying To Make Sense Of One's Life, Which Is What I Think Is Perhaps At The Bottom Of Writing At All.