I Always Feel It Is A Shortcoming

From My Table Inside I Watch The Glamorous Women Outside Who Are Lunching On Spa Cobb Salads Without Blue Cheese Or Dressing. The Man With The Bread Basket Wanders From Table To Table, Lonesome As A Cloud. When He Comes To Me His Basket Is Full And Perfectly Arranged. He Gives Me A Smile Of Sincere Pleasure When I Tell Him I Will Take Both The Sourdough Roll And The Cheese Stick.

There Was Such An Incredible Logic To Kissing, Such A Metal-to-magnet Pull Between Two People That It Was A Wonder That They Found The Strength To Prevent Themselves From Succumbing Every Second. Rightfully, The World Should Be A Whirlpool Of Kissing Into Which We Sank And Never Found The Strength To Rise Up Again.

You Can't Say, "i'm Too Busy Writing To Be Political." You Are One Person.

You Can't Be A Good Person When You're Writing And A Bad Person To Your Husband Or A Bad Friend.

Whenever I Saw Her, I Felt Like I Had Been Living In Another Country, Doing Moderately Well In Another Language, And Then She Showed Up Speaking English And Suddenly I Could Speak With All The Complexity And Nuance That I Hadn't Realized Was Gone. With Lucy I Was A Native Speaker.