It is so self-conscious, so apparently moral, simply to step aside from the gaps where the creeks and winds pour down, saying, I never merited this grace, quite rightly, and then to sulk along the rest of your days on the edge of rage. I won’t have it. The world is wilder than that in all directions, more dangerous and bitter, more extravagant and bright.
[Annie Dillard]

She says she was a “pigeon-toed child with a receding chin and a you-leave-me-alone-or-I’ll-bite-you complex.”

What would you say of yourself?

My first shot: I was a cross-eyed child with very long bones and a John-Steinbeck-deserves-to-die-for-killing-the-red-pony complex.

Or: I was a horse-crazy child with an eye patch and an expression on my face of oh-dear-I-just-realized-that-sound-was-your-voice-and-I’m-sorry-what-was-the-question?