What She Felt Was A Lighthearted Sort

I Would Have A Flick Of Fear, As In A Dream When You Find Yourself In The Wrong Building Or Have Forgotten The Time For The Exam And Understand That This Is Only The Tip Of Some Shadowy Cataclysm Or Lifelong Mistake.

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

You Cannot Let Your Parents Anywhere Near Your Real Humiliations.

Every Year, When You're A Child, You Become A Different Person.

And Did I Not Think Then, What Nonsense It Is To Suppose One Man So Different From Another When All That Life Really Boils Down To Is Getting A Decent Cup Of Coffee And Room To Stretch Out In?