And that's all we are Jefferson, all of us on this earth, a piece of drifting wood. until we - each of us, individually- decide to become something else. I am still that piece of drifting wood, and those out there are no better. But you can be better.

All writers write about the past, and I try to make it come alive so you can see what happened.

The Six Golden Rules of Writing: Read, read, read, and write, write, write.

I have no more to say except this: We must live with our own conscience.

Anytime a child is born, the old people look in his face and ask him if he's the One.

How do people come up with a date and a time to take life from another man? Who made them God?

We wait till now? Now, when we're old men, we get to be brave?