Journalism has not only its social stimulations but its aesthetic virtues. An invitation into print, from however suspect a source, is an opportunity to make something beautiful, to discover within oneself a treasure that would otherwise have remained buried.

Writing doesn't require drive. It's like saying a chicken has to have drive to lay an egg.

Most of American life consists of driving somewhere and then returning home, wondering why the hell you went.

As I get older, my childhood self becomes more accessible to me, but selectively, in images as stylized and suspect as moments remembered from a novel read years ago.

The heart prefers to move against the grain of circumstance; perversity is the souls very life.

The golf swing is like a suitcase into which we are trying to pack one too many things.

It’s spring! Farewell To chills and colds! The blushing, girlish World unfolds Each flower, leaf And blade of sod— Small letters sent To her from God.