What made me empathic was my depressions.

Neurology and psychiatry should be treating the same organ.

The mania is like wasps under the skin, like my head's going to explode with ideas.

The Orioles made me. I didn't make the Orioles.

Nonetheless, writing regularly, inspiration or no, is not a bad way to eventually get into an inspired mood; the plane has to bump along the runway for a while before it finally takes off.

I made my first white women friends in college; they loved me and were loyal to our friendship, but I understood, as they did, that they were white women and that whiteness mattered.