Roscoe was spiritually illegal, a bootlegger of the soul, a mythic creature made of words and wit and wild deeds and boundless memory.
Everyone is interesting except the narrator in a first-person story.
Well-lit streets discourage sin, but don't overdo it.
There's only a short walk from the hallelujah to the hoot.
Anger makes people stupid.
Aspiring writers should read the entire canon of literature that precedes them, back to the Greeks, up to the current issue of The Paris Review.