Shame is a hit-and-run driver in a woman’s life. It gets drunk on her innocence and optimism.
It careens down the highway of the soul, swerving, picking off the freedom to just be. It is such a regular presence that we don’t even realize has taken root in our most sacred palace and extends itself like an infinite redwood into our higher selves.
A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus: 1. What am I trying to say? 2. What words will express it? 3. What image or idiom will make it clearer? 4. Is this image fresh enough to have an effect?