I am not quite myself, I think.But who here is quite himself? And yet there is a way in which we are all more ourselves than ever, I suppose.

Wear your heart on the page, and people will read to find out how you solved being alive.

He wondered how we know that what happens to us isn't good.

I often feel the effects of people only after they leave me.

I wanted to be a veterinarian, but slipped up when I hit organic chemistry.

Then the children went to bed, or at least went upstairs, and the men joined the women for a cigarette on the porch, absently picking ticks engorged like grapes off the sleeping dogs. And when the men kissed the women good night, and their weekend whiskers scratched the women's cheeks, the women did not think shave, they thought stay.

Just once in my life--oh, when have I ever wanted anything just once in my life?