Whenever I dwell for any length of time on my own shortcomings, they gradually begin to seem mild, harmless, rather engaging little things, not at all like the staring defects in other people's characters. ↗
Time always seems long to the child who is waiting - for Christmas, for next summer, for becoming a grownup: long also when he surrenders his whole soul to each moment of a happy day. ↗
I've been using the same editor, thankfully, she's been sticking with me, but I've been doing it full-on guerilla style... I haven't gotten any public sponsor or anything, because I don't want to seem like I'm trying to sell any particular thing. ↗
The fifties - they seem to have taken place on a sunny afternoon that asked nothing of you except a drifting belief in the moment and its power to satisfy. ↗