Honestly, connecting once at the deepest level with someone, you know, once you've done that, even if your life goes to hell, man, it was really worth living.

You're the only person I've ever met who can stand a bookstore as long as I can.

So the kind of boy I was, or that I was told to be, you were kind of this like half-gladiator, half-dude who, you know, was supposed to have as many girls as possible and work until your heart exploded, have no fear, you know.

She would be a new person, she vowed. They said no matter how far a mule travels it can never come back a horse, but she would show them all.

She's applying her lipstick; I've always believed that the universe invented the color red solely for Latinas.

The anti-immigrant logic has basically saturated our world. I'm staying, and I'm fighting.

But it's clear to me that us slow-poke writers are a dying breed. It's amazing how thoroughly my young writing students have internalized the new machine rhythm, the rush many of my young writers are in to publish. The majority don't want to sit on a book for four, five years. The majority don't want to listen to the silence inside and outside for their artistic imprimatur. The majority want to publish fast, publish now.