I've taught fifth-year Christmas leavers last thing on a Friday afternoon. Basically if you can face that you can face anything.

How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?

Think what a better world it would be if we all the whole world had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap.

I found out about reviews early on. They're mostly written by sad men on bad afternoons. That's probably why I'm less angry than some writers who are so narcissistic they consider every line of every review even a thoughtful one as major treason.

To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden where doing nothing was not boring - it was peace.

As far as writing I like watching bad movies. Nothing stops me in my tracks more than watching a great film like 'The Godfather' or 'Dog Day Afternoon' or 'The Graduate.' You watch one of those and you never want to write again. Whereas with bad movies it makes you think If that counts I certainly could write.

I write in the morning I walk in the afternoon and I read in the evening. It's a very easy lovely life.

My aunt had a season ticket for the Friday afternoon concerts and I would go down for lessons. My lessons were Saturday morning.

I run in the morning lift weights in the afternoon basketball training at night and then lift weights again at night.

I hated high school. Ugh. I couldn't wait until it was over so I could sleep in. In college I made sure all my classes were in the afternoon. I hated getting up in the morning.