A Room Is, After All, A Place

Everything Tender And Melancholy - As Life Is Sometimes, Just For One Moment.

Now I No Longer Wish To Be Loved, Beautiful, Happy Or Successful. I Want One Thing And One Thing Only - To Be Left Alone.

What You Take To Be Hyprocrisy Is Sometimes A Certain Caution, Sometimes Genuine, Though Ponderous, Childish, Sometimes A Mixture Of Both.

I Took The Red Dress Down And Put It Against Myself. 'does It Make Me Look Intemperate And Unchaste?' I Said.

All Of Writing Is A Huge Lake. There Are Great Rivers That Feed The Lake, Like Tolstoy Or Dostoyevsky. And Then There Are Mere Trickles, Like Jean Rhys. All That Matters Is Feeding The Lake. I Don't Matter. The Lake Matters. You Must Keep Feeding The Lake.