Every one of us is prone to implicit sexual prejudices, including women.

I will turn human anatomy into roses and stars and sea. I will dissect the beloveds body in metaphor.

Crippled and crazy, we hobble toward the finish line, pen in hand.

Not telling is just as interesting as telling I have found. Why speech, that short verbal journey from inside to outside can be excrutiating under certain circumstances is fascinating.

That night as I lay in bed, I thought of several things I could have said and mourned the fact that my wit usually bloomed late, peaking when it no longer mattered, during the solitary hours close to midnight.

We lose ourselves in stories; that's the beauty of literary art.

Reading is a private pursuit; one that takes place behind closed doors.