Then I celebrated my Wall of Books. I counted the volumes on my twenty-foot-long modernist bookshelf to make sure none had been misplaced or used as kindling by my subtenant. “You’re my sacred ones,” I told the books. “No one but me still cares about you. But I’m going to keep you with me forever. And one day I’ll make you important again.” I thought about that terrible calumny of the new generation: that books smell.
Gary ShteyngartIt is a capital insult in this country not to make love to a naked woman, even if she is related to you.
Gary ShteyngartAmerica should treasure its rare, true original voices and Mark Leyner is one of them. So treasure him already, you bastards!
Gary Shteyngart