We Become The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Sure, Go Ahead, Simulate Life, Using Only Ink And Paper.

I Have No Useful Theories About Love And Marriage.

I Revise Constantly, As I Go Along And Then Again After I've Finished A First Draft. Few Of My Novels Contain A Single Sentence That Closely Resembles The Sentence I First Set Down. I Just Find That I Have To Keep Zapping And Zapping The English Language Until It Starts To Behave In Some Way That Vaguely Matches My Intentions.

She Will Remain Sane And She Will Live As She Was Meant To Live, Richly And Deeply, Among Others Of Her Kind, In Full Possession And Command Of Her Gifts.

I Was Not Ladylike, Nor Was I Manly. I Was Something Else Altogether. There Were So Many Different Ways To Be Beautiful.