There seems to be no air in the air she breaths.

A short story is a different thing all together - a short story is like a kiss in the dark from a stranger.

There were times . . . when it occurred to me that I was repeating my mother's life. Usually this thought struck me as funny. But if I happened to be tired, or if there were extra bills to pay and no money to pay them with, it seemed awful. I'd think 'This isn't the way our lives are supposed to be going.' Then I'd think 'Half the world has the same idea.

Well, I'm like a drug addict, I'm always saying I'm going to stop, and then I don't, what I've said consistently is that I hope I know when to stop: when it starts to get repetitive.

The multiple choices of possibilities of daily life are the music we dance to.

You see something, then it clicks with something else, and it will make a story. But you never know when it's going to happen.

There had never been a shortage of fools in the world