I just think I'm better equipped to make a study of human personality than trying to get into the mind of animals.

When I first submerged my feet into frigid water, they hurt so badly I yanked them out again. I persisted, dunking them for longer and longer periods, until the cold finally blistered.

I tend not to think about the reading public at all, or the business, when I'm writing.

I was always searching, always seeking the next big thing, because that was the thing that was going to make everything all right again. And while I was working toward it, it gave me something to think about other than that thing I couldn't put my finger on. But it always came back.

But it all zipped by. One minute Marlena and I were up to our eyeballs, and the next thing we knew the kids were borrowing the car and fleeing the coop for college. And now, here I am. In my nineties and alone.

When will people learn that just because you can make something doesn’t mean you should?

...poking a lump of red Jello that jiggles outrageously, like a breast I once knew.