He supposed that even in Hell, people got an occasional sip of water, if only so they could appreciate the full horror of unrequited thirst when it set in again.

Like some dogs: kick them once and they never trust you again, no matter how nice you are to them.

Sooner or later everything you thought you'd left behind comes around again. For good or ill, it comes around again.

...writing fiction...is no job for intellectual cowards.

and the rain went rollin down the windowpanes, and the shadows wiggled n' squiggled on her check and forehead like black veins.

Money means I can support my family and still do what I love. Not very many people can say that in this world, and not many writers can say that.

Whatever came to mind, whatever came to hand, I would read.