Why is it that we understand playing the cello will require work, but we attribute writing to the magic of inspiration?

There can be something cruel about people who have had good fortune. They equate it with personal goodness.

That's one of the many things about having the bookstore that I adore. I can walk into the store and say to somebody, "I'm glad you're reading this book" or "I'm glad you're getting this book" or "Don't get that book. I read that book and hated that book. Let's get you this book instead."

The light was cut to lace by the trees that had grown so thick with leaves in the last few months.

I'm very sentimental about lobsters. The last lobster I ate was the only lobster I cooked.

Keeping people safe is a story we tell ourselves.

That is one thing I've learned, that it is possible to really understand things at certain points, and not be able to retain them, to be in utter confusion just a short while later. I used to think that once you really knew a thing, its truth would shine on forever. Now it's pretty obvious to me that more often than not the batteries fade, and sometimes what you knew even goes out with a bang when you try to call on it, just like a lightbulb cracking off when you throw the switch.