In my book, if you want to be treated like an old person, you have to look like one. That means no face-lift, no blond hair, and definitely no fishnet stockings.
In imagining myself as modest, mysterious, and fiercely intelligent, I'm forced to realize that, in real life, I am none of these qualities. Nobody dreams of the things he already has.
If you don’t want to marry a homosexual, then don’t. But what gives you the right to weigh in on your neighbor’s options? It’s like voting on whether or not redheads should be allowed to celebrate Chr...
If I could believe in myself, why not give other improbabilities the benefit of the doubt? I accepted the idea that an omniscient God had cast me in his own image and that he watched over me and guide...
I've always had a way with the little people, making it a point to humor them without looking down my nose at their wasted empty lives.
I'd heard once in school that if a single bird were to transport all the sand, grain by grain, from the eastern seabord to the west coast of Africa, it would take... I didn't catch the number of years...
I refuse to support the poltergeist industry, so would sooner sleep in a cardboard box than at the Belle Grove Plantation or the Albert Shafsky House, or any of the other places listed in the Hundred...
I might reinvent myself to strangers, but to this day, as far as my family is concerned, I’m still the one most likely to set your house on fire.
I found the ad in a community booster paper. Sharp, experienced go-getter wanted to strip/refinish woodwork. Enthusiasm a must. I had spent years refinishing, first in Raleigh and then again in Chicag...
I find it ridiculous to assign a gender to an inanimate object incapable of disrobing and making an occasional fool of itself. Why refer to lady crack pipe or good sir dishrag when these things could...
I can’t be alone in this, can I? And, of course, you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Therefore you keep the crocheted owl given to you by your second-youngest sister and accidentally on purpose...
I attribute my wife's language to the fact that she's one-quarter spaniel. She says she's only an eighth, but, come on, the ears say it all. That and her mouth. (The Faithful Setter)
Hugh’s old drawing teacher used to have one, and though it had been ten years since he’d taken the woman’s class, I could suddenly recall him talking about it. If I had a skeleton like Minerva’s . . ....
He secretly thinks he looks like Marlon Brando, but take a good look a young Marlin Perkins is more like it! Maybe that’s what he sees in Annette Kelper—he’s an animal lover.
Gambling to me is what a telephone pole might be to a groundhog. He sees that it’s there but doesn’t for the life of him understand why.
For my fifty dollars, I want to leave the doctor's office in tears, but instead I walk out feeling like a hypochondriac, which is one of the few things I'm actually not.
For an American, though, Australia seems pretty familiar: same wide streets, same office towers. It’s Canada in a thong, or that’s the initial impression.
Fiecare reuniune are un moment anume in care se sparge. Ajuns la maturitate, mi se intampla de multe ori sa incerc sa identific acest moment, temandu-ma in acelasi timp, de inevitabilul care urmeaza s...
February 13, 1989 Chicago Tonight at Barbara’s Bookstore, Tobias Wolff read from his new memoir, This Boy’s Life.
Ebola, not the thousands who had died of it in Africa but the single person who had it in Dallas.