If you didn't grow up like I did then you don't know, and if you don't know it's probably better you don't judge.
Nobody likes children, your mother assured you. That doesn't mean you don't have them.
Shot at twenty-seven times - what a Dominican number.
Used to be in the old days, only the pulp writers wrote like machines. Now everybody is expected to be literary John Henrys. So in that context someone like me is an anomaly.
Here at last is her smile: burn it into your memory; you won't see it often.
I always individuate myself from other writers who say they would die if they couldn't write. For me, I'd die if I couldn't read.