The Only Way To Write A Book,

I Write Anywhere - When I Have An Idea It’s Hard Not To Write. I Used To Be Kind Of Precious About Where I Wrote. Everything Had To Be Quiet And I Couldn’t Be Disturbed, It Really Filled My Day.

Here We Go Again. Always A Few Drinks, But Sometimes Even Sober, We Play The Unhappiness Game; Endlessly Round And Round. Ding Dong. Tighter And Tighter. On And On. Push Me Pull You. Come Here And I'll Tell You How Much I Hate You. Hang On A Minute While I Leave You. All The While We Know We Are Missing The Point, Whatever The Point Used To Be.

I Do Not Think We Remember Our Family In Any Real Sense. We Live In Them Instead

Nothing Had Happened Yet In My Life Except The Need To Get Out Of It.

It Is Very Hard To Trace The Effect Of Words On A Life.