Dying Is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.
I had hoped, at my departure, I would feel sure and knowledgeable about everything that lay ahead -- after all, I had been "analyzed." Instead, all I could see were question marks.
I have been holding a dialogue with myself and girding myself to stand fast without running.
But they know. They all know. And what am I against so many…?
I had decided I would put off the novel until I had gone to Europe and had a lover.
Hurl yourself at goals above your head and bear the lacerations that come when you slip and make a fool of yourself. Try always, as long as you have breath in your body, to take the hard way–and work, work, work to build yourself into a rich, continually evolving entity.