And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.

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The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.

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I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.

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We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.

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To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.

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Is there no way out of the mind?

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I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.

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I talk to God but the sky is empty.

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I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.

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I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

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