“I had no study in those days, not even a desk or file or bookcase to call mine alone....It might have happened sooner [the writing of work worthy of publication] had I had a room of my own and fewer children, but somehow I doubt it. For as I look back on what I have written, I can see that the very persons who took away my time and space are those who have given me something to say.”

“The very persons who have taken away my time and space are those who have given me something to say.”

“You are the person that I should have had out there.....right out in front for eveyone to see. To be able to say to the world; Look at who it is that I love! Look how wonderful she is. To be proud of who it is that I am with. That person was you. In my self-absorbed and selfish ways, I didn't celebrate or regard you in the way I should have. I will always have regrets about that and those are the types of thoughts and feelings that have haunted me as I have sat alone in my quiet.”

“But it was a significant exercise, for it meant that I considered myself worthy, as I had never done before. That change in my consciousness was so bewildering that I looked back on my previous life with a sort of amazed pity. That narrowness, those scruples, that prolonged childhood... I even, and this is a great test, began to consider journeys I might make, for my own pleasure, without him. I had never been to Greece and I thought I might go now, some time soon. And I knew that if I went I should enjoy it, as I had never enjoyed a journey before. Because I should have James to come back to. By the very fact of his existence, he had given the validity to my entire future.”

“I'm so involved in the process that sometimes at the end of a day, I can look at the piece on my desk and really wonder how it got there. At other times, I really have to struggle with a piece to turn it into what I had in mind. Sometimes, I give up and leave it half finished to work on something else. Then in a few days, when I come back to it, I can see what it wants to be... which sometimes is not at all what I had in mind. When I just let that happen, things seem to go more smoothly.”

“This is for all the people I’ll never meet. This is for the person I might have kissed had I taken a different subway line on Saturday and the person I might have been if that boy hadn’t broken my mother’s teenage heart. This is for the people I would have loved if last winter hasn’t been so cold and for the city I would have called home if I had written haikus on napkins and carried pens in dress pockets and in the knots of my hair. This is for who I was, who I am, who I might be. This is for you.”