One Hand, Five Homes. A Lifetime In

Still, There Are Times I Am Bewildered By Each Mile I Have Traveled, Each Meal I Have Eaten, Each Person I Have Known, Each Room In Which I Have Slept. As Ordinary As It All Appears, There Are Times When It Is Beyond My Imagination.

When I Sit Down To Write, I Don't Think About Writing About An Idea Or A Given Message. I Just Try To Write A Story Which Is Hard Enough.

You Are Still Young, Free.. Do Yourself A Favor. Before It's Too Late, Without Thinking Too Much About It First, Pack A Pillow And A Blanket And See As Much Of The World As You Can. You Will Not Regret It. One Day It Will Be Too Late.

And Yet He Had Loved Her. A Bookish Girl Heedless Of Her Beauty, Unconscious Of Her Effect. She'd Been Prepared To Live Her Life Alone But From The Moment He'd Known Her He'd Needed Her.

In Fiction, Plenty Do The Job Of Conveying Information, Rousing Suspense, Painting Characters, Enabling Them To Speak. But Only Certain Sentences Breathe And Shift About, Like Live Matter In Soil.