Violence is its own anesthetist. The numbness it induces feels very much like calm.
Every house we have lived in, every building to which our hands have lent their work, belongs to us by virtue of love or of regret.
There are places one comes home to that one has never been to.
Porches are America's lost rooms.
There are no inanimate objects.
The most painful moral struggles are not those between good and evil, but between the good and the lesser good.