Solitude Is Un-american.

Writers Do Not Choose Their Subjects; Their Subjects Choose Them.

What Is The Fatal Charm Of Italy? What Do We Find There That Can Be Found Nowhere Else? I Believe It Is A Certain Permission To Be Human, Which Other Places, Other Countries, Lost Long Ago.

As Long As I'm Facing The Right Direction, It Doesn't Matter The Size Of My Steps.

It Is For This, Partly, That I Write. How Can I Know What I Think Unless I See What I Write.

Home Is Where Your Books Are.