Because it is the Midwest, no one really glitters because no one has to, it's more of a dull shine, like frequently used silverware.

There is no weather in malls.

When blame has been assigned, the story is over.

What a midwesterner he was, a thoroughly unhip guy with his heart in the usual place, on the sleeve, in plain sight.

My God, the corruptions of literature. It put all these notions into our heads.

The worst mistakes I've made have been the ones directed by sweet-natured hopefulness.

When all the details fit in perfectly, something is probably wrong with the story.