Life is the most spectacular show on earth.

With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not.

Age is a terrible thief. Just when you're getting the hang of life, it knocks your legs out from under you and stoops your back. It makes you ache and muddies your head and silently spreads cancer throughout your spouse.

The more distressing the memory, the more persistent it's presence.

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

So what if I'm ninety-three? So what if I'm ancient and cranky and my body's a wreck? If they're willing to accept me and my guilty conscience, why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?

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.