May your first day in hell last ten thousand years, and may it be the shortest.
Love isn’t soft, like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.
In spite of the problems he was having he was going on with his life. There are thousands who don’t or won’t or can’t and plenty of them aren’t in prison either.
I think the best stories always end up being about the people rather than the event, which is to say character-driven.
I don't have to listen to rumors about a man when I can judge him for myself.
God turned out to be a bunch of bad little kids playing interstellar Xbox. Isn't that funny?
Drive away and try to keep smiling. Get a little rock and roll on the radio and go toward all the life there is with all the courage you can find and all the belief you can muster. Be true, be brave,...
A little arrogance (or even a lot) isn't such a bad thing, although your mother undoubtedly told you different. Mine did. "Pride goeth before a fall, Stephen", she said... and then I found out - right...
You discarded most of the lies along the way but held on to the one that said life mattered.
You can never be too thin or too rich. And if you don't believe it you were never really fat or really poor.
Without story books is like a person with no soul.
It's how we see the world that keeps the darkness beyond at bay. Keeps it from pouring through and devouring us. I think all of us might know that, way down deep.
A life without books is a thirsty life, and one without poetry is...like a life without pictures.
We've switched from a culture that was interested in manufacturing, economics, politics - trying to play a serious part in the world - to a culture that's really entertainment-based.
What charitable 1 percenters can't do is assume responsibility - America's national responsibilities: the care of its sick and its poor, the education of its young, the repair of its failing infrastru...
But I think talent as a writer is hard-wired in, it's all there, at least the basic elements of it. You can't change it any more than you can choose whether to be right handed or left handed.
You pay for what you get, you own what you pay for... and sooner or later whatever you own comes back home to you.
We fall from womb to tomb, from one blackness and toward another, remembering little of the one and knowing nothing of the other ... except through faith.
Time takes it all, whether you want it to or not.
On either side of them the essence of honky tonk beach resort had now enclosed them: gas stations, fried clam stands, Dairy Treets, motels painted in feverish pastel colors, mini golf. Larry was drawn...