In her whole life Mom never earned more than five or six dollars a week. Being without a husband it was hard for her to find any place at all for us to live.
This love is silent.
Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs rising or falling grasping...
The last thing one discovers in composing a work is what to put first.
It is only in the world of objects that we have time and space and selves.
There is no reciprocity. Men love women. Women love children. Children...
Loving, like prayer, is a power as well as a process. It’s curative....
The very essence of romance is uncertainty.