England offers new comforts. I could write a novel there.

I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it flaps out Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.

I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight down into my stomach like a sword swallowers’ sword and made me feel powerful and godlike.

Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you.

I don't see what women see in other women," I'd told Doctor Nolan in my interview that noon. "What does a woman see in a woman that she can't see in a man?" Doctor Nolan paused. Then she said, "Tenderness.

Do I like to write? Why? About what? Will I give up and say, "Living and feeding a man's insatiable guts and begetting children occupies my whole life. Don't have time to write"?

Now I am silent, hate Up to my neck, Thick, thick. I do not speak.