The clock talked loud. I threw it away, it scared me what it talked.
There are worse words than cuss words there are words that hurt.
And when is there time to remember, to sift, to weigh, to estimate, to total?
Literary history and the present are dark with silences . . . I have had special need to learn all I could of this over the years, myself so nearly remaining mute and having to let writing die over an...
I know that I haven't powers enough to divide myself into one who earns and one who creates.
Women have the right to say: this is surface, this falsifies reality, this degrades.
