I Missed Him. Love, I Realized, Was

That Is What Is Wrong With Cold People. Not That They Have Ice In Their Souls - We All Have A Bit Of That - But That They Insist Every Word And Deed Mirror That Ice. They Never Learn The Beauty Or Value Of Gesture. The Emotional Necessity. For Them, It Is All Honesty Before Kindness, Truth Before Art. Love Is Art, Not Truth. It's Like Painting Scenery.

There Seemed Nothing So True As A Yellow Tree.

If One Publishes, Then One Is Creating A Public Record Of Learning To Write.

Women Now Were Told Not To Settle For Second Best, Told That They Deserved Better, But At A Time, It Seemed, When There Was So Much Less To Go Around.

I've Never Been To A Dinner Party Where Everyone At The Dinner Table Didn't Say Something Funny.