I had started to believe that I might love her in some way. I came to her room late at night once when I was drunk, shouting, throwing myself at her because I wanted her to respect me more that I thought she did. I wanted her to want me more than she did- I mean, I didn’t want her to look at me as if I were a child, I wanted her to look at me with hunger.

Your face says so much in so little time, you let everything you're thinking bloom upon your face, and I can't think of anything else I'd rather watch than you pass through five moods in five minutes. What glorious weather.

A man always wants his friends to be a little in love with his beloved too.

Dear Uncle Bernard - Your niece Frances - a four-eyed, French-plaited platypus awaiting the evaporation of h baby fat - thanks you very much for the romantic advice. But I've never been one to spend time thinking about why men and women take to each other, or why they don't. I think it can turn a lady neurotic, a term I despise but also am loath to have turned in my direction.

She will find it less necessary to carve out of you what needs to be carved out because she has someone else now who needs her knife.

...but I was not very good at hiding my displeasure at mental sleepiness and mediocrity

You and I are so different: I am one word at a time one foot in front of the other, slowly, always testing how surely footing is before proceeding to the next sentence with ruminative breaks for buttered toast and coffee.

It makes me think that a marriage of true minds - to again quote Shakespeare - is in many ways just dumb luck.

My pastor mentioned Kierkegaard in a sermon only once, and it would be a long time before I discovered that there was a storied Christian who suffered from, and so in some way sanctioned, depression, rage, sarcasm, and despair - the diseases that took hold in adolescence, for which church offered no cure.

I'd send a peach pie through the mail but I trust only Jersey peaches and it looks like they don't let them into the city.