It was so easy to disappear, so easy to deny knowledge, so very easy in the smoke and din to mask that something dark had taken root. This was Chicago, on the eve of the greatest fair in history.

I don't listen to music when I write, but I do turn on appropriate music when I read portions of my manuscripts back to myself - kind of like adding a soundtrack to help shape mood.

I started reading the big histories and the small histories, the memoirs and so forth. At some point, I found the diary of William E. Dodd.

I thought I'd go to a bookstore and see what moved me.

I'm very perverse. If someone tells me I have to read a book, I'm instantly disinclined to do so.

Reading Mission to Paris is like sipping a fine Chateau Margaux: Sublime!

I pride myself on having a journalistic remove.