He unscrewed the lid, set it on the dash, snorted from the bottle twice, banged the steering wheel, and said, 'You got to be ready to die every day - then you got a chance.'

The heart's in it then, spinning dreams, and torment is on the way. The heart makes dreams seem like ideas.

I didn't really expect to be coming to the Oscars.

Fading light buttered the ridges until shadows licked them clean and they were lost to nightfall.

I have a book in the pipeline of short stories. You want to hear an agent scream, say 'I'm thinking about doing a collection of short stories set in the Ozarks.

I'm not one of these people who thinks everyone born into privilege should wear sack cloth and ashes. But it's something I wrestle with. I know a lot of people who live below the poverty level and have for a long time and it makes them uneasy to think they'll have to interact with people from different economic levels. Everyone has some sort of load put on them, whatever the circumstances they're born into.

This is how sudden things happened that haunted forever.