It’s history. It’s poetry.
After I go out this door, I may only exist in the minds of all my acquaintances…I may be an orange peel.
We don't talk, we hold forth. We don't converse, we expound.
She was not one for emptying her face of expression.
The Great Gatsby' [...] was my 'Tom Sawyer' when I was twelve [....]
There is a marvelous peace in not publishing ... I like to write. I love to write. But I write just for myself and my own pleasure.