I am too nervous to eat pie.

But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.

And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.

Mel thought real love was nothing less than spiritual love. He'd said he'd spent five years in a seminary before quitting to go to medical school. He said he still looked back on those years in the seminary as the most important years of his life.

Isak Dinesen said that she wrote a little every day, without hope and without despair. I like that.

I am too nervous to eat pie.

You've got to work with your mistakes until they look intended. Understand?