A Sentence Boiled In Her, But She

The Gardener Had A Dread Of Small Women; He'd Always Imagined Them To Have An Anger Disproportionate To Their Size.

Rituals Are Comforting; Rituals Combat Loneliness.

Our Memory Is A Monster; You Forget It - It Does Not.

The History Of A City Was Like The History Of A Family—there Is Closeness And Even Affection, But Death Eventually Separates Everyone From Each Other. It Is Only The Vividness Of Memory That Keeps The Dead Alive Forever; A Writer’s Job Is To Imagine Everything So Personally That The Fiction Is As Vivid As Our Personal Memories.

The Only Way You Get Americans To Notice Anything Is To Tax Them Or Draft Them Or Kill Them.