But I think there are a set of experiences that turn a potential writer into a working writer, and then there are places in your life were you start to recognize what you want to do.

I wasn't a social drinker. I used to say that I didn't want to go to bars because they were full of assholes like me.

Overhead was a sky blacker than jewlers' velvet, and a billion stars screamed down.

Let evil wait for the day on which it must fall.

Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.

But who can foresee such things? None of us can predict the final outcomes of our actions, and few of us even try; most of us just do what we do to prolong a moment's pleasure or to stop the pain. And even when we act for the noblest reasons, the last link of the chain all too often drips with someone's blood.

He was one of those quite rare adults who communicate with small children fairly well and who love them all impartially--not in a sugary way but in a businesslike fashion that may sometimes entail a hug, in the same way that closing a big business deal may call for a handshake.