I Read Pretty Voraciously. If It's Good,

I Read Pretty Voraciously. If It's Good, I Don't Care What It Is.

And There Comes A Time In Your Life When You Realize That If You Don't Take The Opportunity To Be Happy, You May Never Get Another Chance Again.

I Suppose All Writers Worry About The Well Running Dry.

My God, He Couldn't Help Thinking, How Terrible It Is To Be That Age, To Have Emotions So Near The Surface That The Slightest Turbulence Causes Them To Boil Over. That, Very Simply, Was What Adulthood Must Be All About -- Acquiring The Skill To Bury Things More Deeply. Out Of Sight And, Whenever Possible, Out Of Mind.

"if You Paid Me For Work," Continued Max, Whose Rhetoric Was More Sophisticated Than You Might Expect From A Man With Food In His Beard, "i Wouldn't Have To Feel Worthless. There's Not Law Says Old People Have To Feel Worthless All The While, You Know. You Paid Me, I'd Have Some Dignity." Now It Was Mile's Turn To Nod And Smile Agreeably. "i Think The Dignity Ship Set Sail A Long Time Ago, Dad."