I could teach. I could wait tables. I could cook in a restaurant. Food and teaching were the two skills I had.

You can't say, "I'm too busy writing to be political." You are one person.

From my table inside I watch the glamorous women outside who are lunching on Spa Cobb salads without blue cheese or dressing. The man with the bread basket wanders from table to table, lonesome as a cloud. When he comes to me his basket is full and perfectly arranged. He gives me a smile of sincere pleasure when I tell him I will take both the sourdough roll and the cheese stick.

I should figure out why I'm so much more interested in doing something that I think is really hard. But, somehow, the thing that is hard for me feels more noble.

I read books I hate all the time, and I don't mention them or talk about them.

The hardest piece of nonfiction I ever wrote isn't anywhere close to the easiest piece of fiction I never wrote.

I know that there are people out there who believe we should get rid of all guns.