I know from my own experience that suicide is not what it seems. Too easy to try to piece together the fragmented life. The spirit torn in bits so that the body follows.

Quoting her mother: The trouble with a book is you never know what's in it until it's too late!

I didn't mind being unpopular at school, because everyone else was a heathen.

I think of love as a force of nature-as strog as the sun, as necessary, as impersonal, as gigantic, as impossible, as scorching as it is warming,as drought-making as it is life-giving.

It is important not to force a character into something. Fiction writers can be too controlling - usually that's a terror of our own unconscious processes.

Two things significantly distinguish human beings from the other animals; an interest in the past and the possibility of language. Brought together they make a third: Art. The invisible city not calculated to exist. Beyond the lofty pretensions of the merely ceremonial, long after the dramatic connivings of plitical life, like it or not, it remains. Time past eternally present and undestroyed.

When a woman gives birth her waters break and she pours out the child and the child runs free.