Leaves hung in the stillness like hands of the newly dead.
. . . why some men choose to fill their brief allotment of time engaging the impossible, others in the manufacture of sorrow.
Whenever I finish a book, I start with a blank slate and never have ideas lined up.
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.
Chicago has disappointed her enemies and astonished the world
Reading is such a personal thing to me. I'd much rather give someone a gift certificate to a bookstore, and let that person choose his or her own books.