I take it as an article of faith that the novels I've loved will live inside me forever.
I could bear the memory, but I could not bear the music that made the memory such a killing thing.
Anyone who knows me well must understand and be sympathetic to my genuine need to be my own greatest hero. It is not a flaw of character; it is a catastrophe.
Will his work survive? Alas, I worry that it will not. As an American liberal with impeccable credentials, I would like to say that political correctness is going to kill American liberalism if it is...
Paranoia has a sharper taste if the danger is real.
No man or woman has the right to humiliate children, even in the sacrosanct name of education. No one has the right to beat children with leather straps, even under the sacred auspices of all school b...
It did not look like the work of God, but it might have represented the handicraft of a God with a joyous sense of humor, a dancing God who loved mischief as much as prayer, and playfulness as much as...
I'd be a conservative if I'd never met any. They're selfish, mean-spirited, egocentric, reactionary, and boring.
I do not have any other way of saying it. I think it happens but once and only to the very young when it feels like your skin could ignite at the mere touch of another person. You get to love like tha...
From the beginning I've searched out those writers unafraid to stir up the emotions, who entrust me with their darkest passions, their most indestructible yearnings, and their most soul-killing doubts...
Even then, her interior life was far more important to her than her external one.
Great words, arranged with cunning and artistry, could change the perceived world for some readers
Writers of the world, if you’ve got a story, I want to hear it. I promise it will follow me to my last breath. My soul will dance with pleasure, and it’ll change the quality of all my waking hours. Yo...
Violence send deep roots into the heart, it has no seasons, it is always ripe, evergreen.
She had so mastered the strategies of camouflage that her own history had seemed a series of well-placed mirrors that kept her hidden from herself.
He treated the stars as though they were love songs written to him by God.
Christ must do a lot of puking when he reflects upon the good works done in his name.
But, as I watch this film, I often think that the boy did not know what he was really running toward, that it was not the end zone which awaited him. Somewhere in that ten second dash the running boy...
And in that instant was born the terrible awareness that life eventually broke every man, but in different ways and at different times.
And I was glad she had the camera as a fence to protect herself, an excuse to be invisible. Cameras are a lifesaver for the very shy people who have nowhere else to hide.