For There Is Never Any Way To

I Wanted To Write About My Mother As She Should Have Been If She Had Not Been Messed Up By World War I.

When A White Man In Africa By Accident Looks Into The Eyes Of A Native And Sees The Human Being (which It Is The Chief Preoccupation To Avoid), His Sense Of Guilt, Which He Denies, Fumes Up In Resentment And He Brings Down The Whip.

I Never Stopped Reading.

I Didn't Go To School Much, So I Taught Myself What I Knew From Reading.

There's An Unconscious Bias In Our Society: Girls Are Wonderful; Boys Are Terrible. And To Be A Boy, Or Young Man, Growing Up, Having To Listen To All This, It Must Be Painful.