dancing around the tree as if it were a pagan god. - Blume Lempel

in a certain sense maybe I am a recluse. For me it’s enough to write a story and have it appear in a journal. Beyond that, being in public scares me. bl

At times I feel very pessimistic—for whom are we writing? Then I think of you—you, who give so much and receive so little, who go on with your work—and in Yiddish! Who am I to complain? bl

How wonderful to have a friend who reads, who understands, who offers a critical word that hits the nail on the head.