I started taking ballet lessons when I was three and a half and I still take dance classes.
There's a practical problem about time and energy, and a more subtle problem of what it does to a writer's head, to continually analyze why they write, where it all comes from, where it's going to.
This ship was a league from us, and some of the men would have taken her, and I would not consent to it, and this Moore said I always hindered them making their fortunes. Was that not the reason I struck him? Was there a mutiny on board?

