There is something in us that loves certain disasters and the fever of this moment and surrendering to that.

I thought: this is how life is, ridiculous beyond comprehension.

Arterial-plaque specials that save minutes now can cost years, later on.

Libraries are the one American institution you shouldn't rip off.

It is harrowing for me to try to teach 20-year-old students, who earnestly want to improve their writing. The best I can think to tell them is: Quit smoking, and observe posted speed limits. This will improve your odds of getting old enough to be wise.

This is how moths speak to each other. They tell their love across the fields by scent. There is no mouth, the wrong words are impossible, either a mate is there or he is not, and if so the pair will find each other in the dark.

Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin.