A writer's life is so hazardous that anything he does is bad for him. Anything that happens to him is bad: failure's bad, success is bad; impoverishment is bad, money is very, very bad. Nothing good can happen... Except the act of writing.

Longing, the hope for fulfillment, is the one unwavering passion of the world's commerce.

We're always attracted to the edges of what we are, out by the edges where it's a little raw and nervy.

We are able to walk on air, but only as long as our illusion supports us.

And so do people pass out of one's life and all you can remember of them is their humanity, a poor fitful thing of no dominion, like your own.

Stories distribute the suffering so that it can be borne.

The theory for admitting accomplice testimony that is uncorroborated is that conspiracy is by its nature secretive and that only the parties to it can know it occurred. But in practice this means the accomplice's guilt is modified to the degree that he can convict the defendant.