Injustice wears ever the same harsh face wherever it shows itself.
The truth is the light and the light is the truth.
In those days it was either live with music or die with noise, and we chose rather desperately to live.
America is woven of many strands. I would recognize them and let it so remain.
The act of writing requires a constant plunging back into the shadow of the past where time hovers ghostlike.
All novels are about certain minorities: the individual is a minority.