...remember the metallic sound and taste of all of it. And the outrage. - Shirley Jackson

On the moon we wore feathers in our hair, and rubies on our hands. On the moon we had gold spoons.

I live a mad, abandoned life, draped in a shawl and going from garret to garret.

I cannot find any patience for those people who believe that you start writing when you sit down at your desk and pick up your pen and finish writing when you put down your pen again; a writer is always writing, seeing everything through a thin mist of words, fitting swift little descriptions to everything he sees, always noticing. Just as I believe that a painter cannot sit down to his morning coffee without noticing what color it is, so a writer cannot see an odd little gesture without putting a verbal description to it, and ought never to let a moment go by undescribed.