I think that as you learn more about writing you learn to be direct.

Is there any sleeping person you can be entirely sure you have not misjudged?

Southerners love a good tale. They are born reciters, great memory retainers, diary keepers, letter exchangers . . . great talkers.

For the night was not impartial. No, the night loved some more than others, served some more than others.

I wanted to read immediately. The only fear was that of books coming to an end.

Learning stamps you with its moments. Childhood's learning is made up of moments. It isn't steady. It's a pulse.

Gardening is akin to writing stories. No experience could have taught me more about grief or flowers, about achieving survival by going, your fingers in the ground, the limit of physical exhaustion.