The silence between us was so profound I thought part of it must be my fault.

We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine.

I am still raw. I say I may be back. You know what lies are for. Even in your Zen heaven we shan't meet.

Tomorrow is another day toward death.

If only I can find him... the man who will be intelligent, yet physically magnetic and personable. If I can offer that combination, why shouldn't I expect it in a man?

My wanting to write books annihilates the original root impulse that would have me bravely and blunderingly working on them.

The blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain.