Every Man With His Own Peculiar Vice.

Literature Can Remind Us That Not All Life Is Already Written Down: There Are Still So Many Stories To Be Told.

Increasingly I Think Of Myself As Some Strange And Solitary Conductor, Introduced To A Group Of Very Dynamic Musicians Who Happen To Be My Characters, And I Have No Idea How They Are Going To Play Together, And I Have Certainly No Idea How I Am Going To Put Manners On Them.

Memory Has A Heavy Backspin, Yet It’s Still Impossible To Land Exactly Where We Took Off.

That Was The Sort Of Everyday Love I Had To Learn To Contend With: If You Grow Up With It, It's Hard To Think You'll Ever Match It. I Used To Think It Was Difficult For Children Of Folks Who Really Loved Each Other, Hard To Get Out From Under That Skin Because Sometimes It's Just So Comfortable You Don't Want To Have To Develop Your Own.

I Don't Know Of A Greater Privilege Than Being Allowed To Tell A Story, Or To Listen To A Story. They're The Only Thing We Have That Can Trump Life Itself.