[L]ove, having no geography, knows no boundaries.
I remember things the way they should have been.
With one exception everybody who has ever been involved with me is still a great friend of mine.
My yardstick is how somebody treats me.
Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing.
Life is difficult enough without Meryl Streep movies.