I Write Out Of Defiance.

One Doesn't Have To Pursue Unhappiness. It Comes To You. You Come Into The World Screaming. You Cry When You're Born Because Your Lungs Expand. You Breathe. I Think That's Really Kind Of Significant. You Come Into The World Crying, And It's A Sign That You're Alive.

Gardeners (or Just Plain Simple Writers Who Write About The Garden) Always Have Something They Like Intensely And In Particular, Right At The Moment You Engage Them In The Reality Of The Borders They Cultivate, The Space In The Garden They Occupy At Any Moment, They Like In Particular This, Or They Like In Particular That.

I Like Cooking, But I Think Someone Else Ought To Do The Dishes.

It's Not That I'm A Very Good Person. It's That I Think I Should At Least Look At The Ways In Which I Am Not A Good Person, The Ways In Which I So Readily Become The Person Who Would Not Notice That The Wonderful Clothing I'm Wearing Someone Is Probably Dying For.

I Didn't Know It Was Possible To Be Successful As A Writer, So I Wasn't Afraid To Fail.