there i was in late middle age, cut loose in a thoroughly looted, bankrupt nation whose assets had been sold off to foreigners, a nation swamped by unchecked plagues and superstition and illiteracy and hypnotic tv, with virtually no health services for the poor. where to go? what to do?

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but the living room in your fortified compound.

This is what I find encouraging about the writing trades: ... They allow lunatics to seem saner than sane.

There is no good reason good can't triumph over evil, if only angels will get organized along the lines of the mafia.

America is the wealthiest nation on Earth, but its people are mainly poor, and poor Americans are urged to hate themselves.

I don't reveal to her that I love her. I keep poker faced. She might as well be looking at a cantaloupe, there is so little information in my face, but my heart is beating.

I'm so sorry - we had this cottage up in Lake Maxinkuckee, in Culver. I've thought so often of the poor Pottawattomies we took this land away from. They must have loved it so.