How Can A Doctor Judge A Woman's Sanity By Merely Bidding Her Good Morning And Refusing To Hear Her Pleas For Release? Even The Sick Ones Know It Is Useless To Say Anything, For The Answer Will Be That It Is Their Imagination.
I Still Love Doing What I Do, And I'm Really Lucky To Get Up In The Morning And Want To Go To Work.
I Loved To Read, And I Think Any Child Who Loves To Read Will Read Anything, Including The Back Of The Cereal Box, Which I Did Every Morning.
I've Heard That Some Authors Do Dream Their Books And I Would Love That If It Happened To Me, But So Far It Hasn't. Sometimes I'll Get A Good Idea During The Night And If I Don't Write It Down, I Won't Remember It The Next Morning.
What I Remember When I Started To Write Was How I Couldn't Wait To Get Up In The Morning To Get To My Characters.
Ten Years Have Passed Since A Perfect Blue Sky Morning Turned Into The Blackest Of Nights. Since Then We've Lived In Sunshine And In Shadow, And Although We Can Never Unsee What Happened Here, We Can Also See That Children Who Lost Their Parents Have Grown Into Young Adults, Grandchildren Have Been Born And Good Works And Public Service Have Taken Root To Honor Those We Loved And Lost.
One Thing That Helps Is To Give Myself Permission To Write Badly. I Tell Myself That I'm Going To Do My Five Or 10 Pages No Matter What, And That I Can Always Tear Them Up The Following Morning If I Want. I'll Have Lost Nothing-writing And Tearing Up Five Pages Would Leave Me No Further Behind Than If I Took The Day Off.
Morning. Strawberry Sky Dusted With White Winter Powder Sugar Sun. And Nobody To Munch On It With
I Feel Pretty Good When I Get Out Of Bed In The Morning. I Don't Feel All Beat Up, Which Is Nice.
My Dreams Tend To Be Like Dog Dreams. I'm Usually So Tired That I Hardly Dream At All. In A Way, I Do Think That The Zone One Performs In - Without Getting Too Ooga-booga About It - It's Like That Moment When You Wake Up In The Morning And You're Emerging From A Dream State But You're Not Quite Up. Where Are You? Can You Hear The Birds? Or Is That The Traffic? It's That Zone In Which I Perform. It’s Like One Foot In Reality And One Foot In A Dream State. I Spend Most Of My Life In That State!
