I’ve gotten a lot of livid letters about the awfulness of my work. I’ve never known what to make of it. Why do people bother to write if they hate what I do?
I am not sure how much I would like being married if I wasn’t married to him. A man who likes flea markets and isn’t gay? I knew I was lucky.
Sometimes, I think the only art left for us is slowly peeling the label off a beer bottle while somebody tells you about a dream they had.
What if she stepped on a needle and it went right into her foot and Roberta would not feel it and the needle would rise and rise and rise through the veins leading up to the heart and then the needle would STAB HER IN THE HEART and Roberta would DIE and it would be VERY PAINFUL this according to nurse mother a medical expert on Freaky Ways to Croak… The mother shouted that she knew several people who died from the Rising Stab of the Unfelt Needle or RSUN she has seen cases of it many times and not ONE PERSON HAS SURVIVED IT.
Playing and fun are not the same thing, though when we grow up we may forget that and find ourselves mixing up playing with happiness. There can be a kind of amnesia about the seriousness of playing, especially when we played by ourselves.
are memories pictures or the secret doorway?
If I had had me for a student I would have thrown me out of class immediately.
I go to work the minute I open my eyes.
If I could only turn the etch-a-sketch of my life upside down.
It is true that I am a person with black pockets of evil and hatred in my heart. There are underground places inside of me
My goal on my bucket list is to write a romantic comedy movie.
In health we’re doing the digestive system. We each got assigned a topic for an oral report. I got the small intestine. I swear to god I hate my life.
