I Read About Writers Who Have Routines.

It's Not That I'm A Very Good Person. It's That I Think I Should At Least Look At The Ways In Which I Am Not A Good Person, The Ways In Which I So Readily Become The Person Who Would Not Notice That The Wonderful Clothing I'm Wearing Someone Is Probably Dying For.

Friendship Is A Simple Thing, And Yet Complicated; Friendship Is On The Surface, Something Natural, Something Taken For Granted, And Yet Underneath One Could Find Worlds.

When I Write A Book, I Hope To Be Beyond Mortal By The Time I'm Finished.

That The World I Was In Could Be Soft, Lovely, And Nourishing Was More Than I Could Bear, And So I Stood There And Wept, For I Didn't Want To Love One More Thing In My Life, Didn't Want One More Thing That Could Make My Heart Break Into A Million Little Pieces At My Feet.

But Some Natives--most Natives In The World--cannot Go Anywhere. They Are Too Poor. They Are Too Poor To Go Anywhere. They Are Too Poor To Escape The Reality Of Their Lives; And They Are Too Poor To Live Properly In The Place Where They Live, Which Is The Very Place You, The Tourist, Want To Go--so When The Natives See You, The Tourist, They Envy You, They Envy Your Ability To Leave Your Own Banality And Boredom, They Enjoy Your Ability To Turn Their Own Banality And Boredom Into A Source Of Pleasure For Yourself.