Scars Crossed Her Welded Wrists.

But I Care About The Reader, And I'm Trying To Keep The Reader's Attention For As Long As I Can.

The Pulitzer Prize Is An Idea; It's A Vote Of Confidence. Like Literature, It Exists Purely In The Mind.

You Begin Always Knowing Nothing. You Remain Forever An Amateur, A First Timer.

-who Are You, Anyway? -just Someone Who Knows, From Personal Experience, How Attractive It Can Be To Think You Can Save Somebody Else By Loving Them.

And In Some Of The Houses, People Were Getting Old And Sick And Were Dying, Leaving Others To Grieve. It Was Happening All The Time, Unnoticed, And It Was The Thing That Really Mattered. What Really Mattered In Life, What Gave It Weight, Was Death.