I have total recall. I remember being born. I remember being in the womb, I remember being inside. Coming out was great.

I want to hold onto this funny thing. God, it's gotten big on me. I don't know what it is. I'm so damned unhappy, I'm so mad, and I don't know why. I feel like I'm putting on weight. I feel fat. I feel like I'm saving a lot of things, and I don't know what. I might even start reading books.

It's lack that gives us inspiration. It's not fullness.

The years go by. The time, it does fly. Every single second is a moment in time that passes. And it seems like nothing - but when you're looking back ... well, it amounts to everything.

What's the point of having a library full of books you've already read?

So few want to be rebels anymore. And out of those few, most, like myself, scare easily.

There are a lot of wonderful women writers who would be good influences on writers. You've got to spread yourself out and educate yourself with all kinds of stories.