I Often Don't Read Reviews.

Finally He Spoke The Three Simple Words That No Amount Of Bad Art Or Bad Faith Can Every Quite Cheapen. She Repeated Them, With Exactly The Same Slight Emphasis On The Second Word, As Though She Were The One To Say Them First. He Had No Religious Belief, But It Was Impossible Not To Think Of An Invisible Presence Or Witness In The Room, And That These Words Spoken Aloud Were Like Signatures On An Unseen Contract.

It Is Not The First Duty Of The Novelist To Provide Blueprints For Insurrection, Or Uplifting Tales Of Successful Resistance For The Benefit Of The Opposition. The Naming Of What Is There Is What Is Important.

When People Ask, "is There Any Advice You'd Give A Young Writer?," I Say Write Short Stories. They Afford Lots Of Failure. Pastiche Is A Great Way To Start.

What Idiocy, To Racing Into This Story And Its Labyrinths, Sprinting Away From Our Happiness Among The Fresh Spring Grasses By The Oak.

She Loved Him, Though Not At This Particular Moment.