“I was growing stale in London. I was tired of doing much the same thing everyday. My friends pursued their course with uneventfulness; they had no longer any surprises for me, and when I met them I knew pretty well what they would say; even their love-affairs had a tedious banality. We were like tram-cars running on their lines from terminus to terminus, and it was possible to calculate within small limits the number of passengers they would carry. Life was ordered too pleasantly. I was seized with panic. I gave up my small apartment, sold my few belongings, and resolved to start afresh.”

“As I was escorted outside by the officers, my friends looked back at me with blank expressions. I don’t think they knew what to say to me. I had lied to them about my home life. They had always been there for me and probably would have understood if I had told them the truth from the start, but it was too late. All the lies I had told them about having a perfect family had been shattered by that one incident.”

“Why did you start to write?I left at 15.. I started to write becase I was taken off a ship from Germany when I was 18. They said I wouldn't live for 6 months.I'd been given up for dead many times and I just didn't want to waste my life. I had what I now realize was a spiritual experience.I realized that I would die,and that just before I would die,two things would happen.number one, I would regret my entire life.and number two, I would want to live my life over again.and then I would die.and that terrified me.[...]to think that I would live my entire life, look at it, and say oh..I blew it. was such a terrifying thoughtthat I bought a typewriterI didn't know what I was going to do with it, but I bought a typewriter.but that is what got me to start writing, wasI did not want to waste my lifeI wanted to, and I HAD to, do something with my life”

“My mother had comforted me with tales ever since I was small. Sometimes they helped me peel a problem like an onion, or gave me ideas about what to do; other times, they calmed me so much that I would fall into a soothing sleep. My father used to say that her tales were better than the best medicine. Sighing, I burrowed into my mother's body like a child, knowing that the sound of her voice would be a balm on my heart.”

“Throughout it all, I loved her as much as I always had, and I found myself aching for those simpler times of the past. I knew what was happening, of course. As we were drifting apart, I was becoming more desperate to save what we once had shared; like a vicious circle, however, my desperation made us drift apart even further.”

“I had a million plans. I knew what I was going to do. I had the next few years of my life all figured out.But what I didn’t know was that within a few hours all those plans would change. Ms. Know-it-all didn’t quite know it all so much then.”