Accent the ugly until it becomes gorgeous.

Until the 20th century it was generally assumed that a writer had said what he had to say in his works.

Vagueness and procrastination are ever a comfort to the frail in spirit.

The New England spirit does not seek solutions in a crowd; raw light and solitariness are less dreaded than welcomed as enhancers of our essential selves.

I moved to New England partly because it has a real literary past. The ghosts of Hawthorne and Melville still sit on those green hills. The worship of Mammon is also somewhat lessened there by the spirit of irony. I don't get hay fever in New England either.

Laws aren't ghosts in this country, they walk around with the smell of earth on them.

The other sad truth about golf spectatorship is that for today's pros it all comes down to the putting, and that the difference between a putt that drops and one that rims the cup, though teleologically enormous, is intellectually negligeable.