I felt a Cleaving in my Mind-As if my Brain had split-I tried to match it- Seam by Seam-But could not make it fit.
Emily DickinsonAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: american
- Born: December 10, 1830
- Died: May 15, 1886
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Diesel rocked back on his heels and grinned at the monkey. “Carl?”
“Eep!” The monkey stood, squinted at Diesel, and gave him the finger.
“Looks like you know each other,” I said.
“Our paths crossed in Trenton,” Diesel said. “How did he get here?”
“Monkey Rescue,” Glo told him. “He was abandoned.”
“Figures,” Diesel said.
The monkey gave him the finger again.
“Does he do that all the time?” I asked Diesel.
“Not all the time.”
“I got him by mistake,” Glo said. “And now we don’t know...
Janet Evanovich
When writing goes painfully, when it’s hideously difficult, and one feels real despair (ah, the despair, silly as it is, is real!)–then naturally one ought to continue with the work; it would be cowardly to retreat. But when writing goes smoothly–why then one certainly should keep on working, since it would be stupid to stop. Consequently one is always writing or should be writing.
Joyce Carol Oates
