This was like July 13th, 1943, the pivotal day of the Battle of the Kursk. We were like Alexander Vasilevsky, the Soviet general. If we attacked now, this minute, we had to keep on and on attacking until the enemy was run off his feet and the war was won. If we bogged down or paused for breath even for a second, we would be overrun again.

That should be your town motto. It's all I ever hear. Like: New Hampshire, Live Free or Die. It should be: Despair, You Need To Leave Now.

I'd never believed in luck. Never had any cause to. Never relied on it, because I never could.

I have the "thing" worked out - the trick or the surprise or the pivotal fact. Then I just start somewhere and let the story work itself out.

Lone women shouldn't stop in the middle of nowhere for giant unkempt strangers with duct tape on their faces.

A handgun at two hundred feet is the same thing as crossing your fingers and making a wish.

I have to warn you. I promised my mother, a long time ago. She said I had to give folks a chance to walk away.