I Am A Woman And My Business

All Good Writing Is Swimming Under Water And Holding Your Breath.

The Past--the Wild Charge At The Head Of His Men Up San Juan Hill; The First Years Of His Marriage When He Worked Late Into The Summer Dusk Down In The Busy City For Young Hildegarde Whom He Loved; The Days Before That When He Sat Smoking Far Into The Night In The Gloomy Old Button House On Monroe Street With His Grandfather-all These Had Faded Like Unsubstantial Dreams From His Mind As Though They Had Never Been. He Did Not Remember.

Art Isn't Meaningless... It Is In Itself. It Isn't In That It Tries To Make Life Less So.

...for A Moment People Set Down Their Glasses In County Clubs And Speak-easies And Thought Of Their Old Best Dreams.

Her Voice Is Full Of Money.