I Despised Their Antics Because I Took

For We Did Makeup. But We Didn't Forgive Each Other. And We Didn't Take Steps. And It Got To Be Too Late And We Saw That Each Of Us Had Invested Too Much In Being In The Right And We Walked Away And It Was A Relief.

He Never Wanted To Be Away From Her. She Had The Spark Of Life.

For Years And Years I Thought That Stories Were Just Practice, Till I Got Time To Write A Novel.

People Have Thoughts They’d Sooner Not Have. It Happens In Life.

I Used To Feel For Years And Years And Years That I Was Very Remiss Not To Have Written A Novel And I Would Question People Who Wrote Novels And Try To Find Out How They Did It And How They Had Got Past Page 30. Then, With The Approach Of Old Age, I Began To Just Think: “well, Lucky I Can Do Anything At All.