I am obsessive, also I am industrious. Besides, the time when you are most alive and most aware is in childhood and one is trying to recapture that heightened awareness.

August is a wicked month.

Life, after all, was a secret with the self. The more one gave out, the less there remained for the center--that center which she coveted for herself and recognized instantly in others. Fruits had it, the very heart of, say, a cherry, where the true worth and flavor lay. Some of course were flawed or hollow in there. Many, in fact.

It's not the vote women need, we should be armed.

...people liking you or not liking you is an accident and is to do with them and not you. That goes for love too, only more so.

I am not kind, I cut people off as with shears and I drop them like nettles.

What matters is the imaginative truth.