Forgiveness is hard. Acceptance is doable.

That was the thing about being alone, in theory or in principle. Whatever happened - good, bad, or anywhere in between - it was always, if nothing else, all your own.

I've found in my own life that if my writing isn't going well, not much else will. It is the one constant, the key to everything else.

But God!Who could live like this , anyway, with the kind of guesswork that was enough to make a person crazy, just sailing along, taking bumps here and there, no course navigated whatsoever, with any big wave capable of just tipping and sinking you entirely. IT was madness, stipidity, and- (then I saw him)

Life is full of screwups. You're supposed to fail sometimes. It's a required part of the human existance.

Some writers pick a topic and write around that, but I like to include it all.

When someone starts to change, and it’s obvious, it's sort of natural to wonder why. Right?