No art ever came out of not risking your neck.
Suppose you meet me in the woods.
Radio, sewing machine, bookends, ironing board and that great big piano lamp - peace, that's what I like. Butterbean vines planted all along the front where the strings are.
A thing is incredible, if ever, only after it is told -- returned to the world it came out of.
A story is not the same thing when it ends as it was when it began.
She read Dickens in the spirit in which she would have eloped with him.