Banality Is Sometimes Striking.

He Says He’s Lonely, Horribly Lonely Because Of This Love He Feels For Her. She Says She’s Lonely Too. She Doesn’t Say Why.

The Woman Is The Home. That's Where She Used To Be, And That's Where She Still Is. You Might Ask Me, What If A Man Tries To Be Part Of The Home -- Will The Woman Let Him? I Answer Yes. Because The He Becomes One Of The Children.

The Words Emerge From Her Body Without Her Realizing It, As If She Were Being Visited By The Memory Of A Language Long Forsaken.

There Are Many Women Who Write As They Think They Should Write - To Imitate Men And Make A Place For Themselves In Literature.

I Seldom Read On Beaches Or In Gardens. You Can't Read By Two Lights At Once, The Light Of Day And The Light Of The Book. You Should Read By Electric Light, The Room In Shadow, And Only The Page Lit Up.