I have slowly come to realize that a family is composed of people who are teaching one another.

I have no home but me.

I've struggled all my life to get maximum meaning in the simplest possible form.

I had forgotten what sleep is like - a kingdom all its own.

I come to the point of using steel, and simply cannot. It's like the marriage proposal of a perfectly eligible man who just isn't loveable. It is wood I love.

The art of being officially old seems to lie in cooperative submission.

I have been flooded with color on the inside, drab on the outside.