The need to write comes from the need to make sense of one's life and discover one's usefulness.

“Agnes Shay had the true spirit of a maid. Moistened with dishwater and mild eau…”

“Ben and I walked by the Forum, which, with the green grass still growing among …”

“For lovers, touch is metamorphosis. All the parts of their bodies seem to chang…”

“I can’t write without a reader. It’s precisely like a kiss—you can’t do it alon…”