The secret of good writing is to strip every sentence to its cleanest components. Every word that serves no function, every long word that could be a short word, every adverb that carries the same meaning that’s already in the verb, every passive construction that leaves the reader unsure of who is doing what—these are the thousand and one adulterants that weaken the strength of a sentence. And they usually occur in proportion to the education and rank.

You learn to write by writing.

Writing wasn't easy and wasn't fun. It was hard and lonely, and the words seldom just flowed.

As a writer I try to operate within a framework of Christian principles, and the words that are important to me are religious words: witness, pilgrimage, intention.

Writing and learning and thinking are the same process.

Clear thinking becomes clear writing; one can't exist without the other.

Thought is action in rehearsal.