Things Could Be Worse And Things Could

I Wake Up Every Day In Order To Do Something That's Quixotic, And Not Necessarily Called For In The World, But I Do It Because There's Extraordinary Meaning For Me Behind The Effort.

Every Time You Hear Someone Read Your Book And Liked Your Book, You're Never Sure Whether That's Going To Follow With A Similar Remark From Someone Else. Perhaps I Have Low Expectations, But Whenever I Hear Someone Say, 'i Liked Your Book,' I Don't Know If It's Going To Happen Again.

A Multifaceted Writer, Very Easy On The Surface To Pin Down But Incredibly Difficult Once You Actually Read Him With Any Depth.

The People At The Very Top Could Fall By And Grace You With Their Presence And Give You A Little Largesse, And You'd Be "oh, I'm So Beloved." In A Way, It Was Kind Of Like Flattery. The Middle Managers Didn't Quite Have That Cachet, But At The Same Time, They Had To Seem Like They Were Of That Caliber. So There's A Little Bit Of Loneliness At The Heart Of Those With A Little Bit Of Power.

A Child, Thought Carl, Is Not The Only Result Of Childbirth. A Mother, Too, Is Born. You See Them Every Day--nondescript Women With A Bulge Just Above The Groin, Slightly Double-chinned. Perpetually Forty. Someone's Mother, You Think. There Is A Child Somewhere Who Has Made This Woman Into A Mother, And For The Sake Of The Child She Has Altered Her Appearance To Better Play The Part.