The sheets grow heavy as a lecher's kiss.

Masks are the order of the day - and the least I can do is cultivate the illusion that I am gay, serene, not hollow and afraid.

Let me not be weak and tell others how bleeding I am internally; how day by day it drips, and gathers, and congeals.

What is so real as the cry of a child? A rabbit's cry may be wilder But it has no soul.

I need some older, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God, but the sky is empty, and Orion walks by and doesn't speak.

Why honey, don't you want to get dressed?" My mother took care never to tell me to do anything. She would only reason with me sweetly, like one intelligent, mature person with another. It's almost three in the afternoon." I'm writing a novel," I said. "I haven't got time to change into this and change into that.

I think writers are the most narcissistic people. Well, I musn't say this, I like many of them, a great many of my friends are writers.