I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all, ever, is very lucky.

I think this is true for all artists. My senses are very important to me.

When anyone escapes, my heart / leaps up. Even when it's I who am escaped from, / I am half on the side of the leaver.

I have never thought I could take it, not even for the children. It is all I have wanted to do, to stand between them and and pain. But I come from a long line of women who put themselves first.

She'd crack A joke sharp as a tin lid Hot from the teeth of the can-opener, And cackle her crack-corn laugh.

I did not deceive him, he did not deceive me, I did not leave him, he did not leave me, I freed him, he freed me.

The older I get, the more I feel.