I Need Eight Hours To Get Maybe

Every Time I Get Through The Work On A Book Of Nonfiction, I Say I'll Never Do It Again; It Takes So Much Out Of You.

So This Is The Space During Tutoring Hours. It's Very Busy. Same Principles: One-on-one Attention, Complete Devotion To The Students' Work And A Boundless Optimism And Sort Of A Possibility Of Creativity And Ideas.

We're In An Era Where They've Sanitized Home Life In Movies To Such A Degree That There Is A Certain Home Life That Might Be True If You Have Two Perfect Parents, And A Nanny, And A Couple Babysitters, And Support, And Lots Of Money, And There's No Strain At Home, Or Whatever. But For Most People, There's Strain, You Know? There's A Lot Of Pressure, Things Can't Be Perfect, Parents Can't Be Perfect All The Time. There's A Divorce, There's Money Issues, Whatever. People Work, So You Don't Always Have These Vast Reserves Of Patience Every Time Your Kid Goes Crazy.

Having Lost People When They Were Young, You Feel Intimately Acquainted With Mortality, I Guess. Though I Procrastinate Worse Than Anybody.

Why Do We Pursue Information That We Know Will Never Leave Our Heads?