I've finally gotten to the bottom of things.

His books are exciting and powerful and — if I may filch the word from the booksy ones — pulsing.

They sicken of the calm who know the storm.

Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there, Weep and laugh and sweat and swear, Hear a song, or watch a stage, Leave some words upon a page, Claim a foe, or hail a friend- Bed awaits me at the end.

If you looked for things to make you feel hurt and wretched and unnecessary, you were certain to find them.

Dear Mary: We all knew you had it in you.

Why, after all, should readers never be harrowed? Surely there is enough happiness in life without having to go to books for it.