"One of the things that I think about in this book is what happens to people's behavior when they are anonymous online. My view is it gets bad, and deceit becomes the rule, and people get carried away with their ability to hide behind masks."
"I found that it was frustrating to me to find the good stories and also to get access to the good stories in journalism. Whereas in novels, of course, you create the good stories and you manage the plot and decide on the characters and have everything under your control."
"When forms die, they die for good reason. Because they are no longer articulating or conveying what it is like to be alive."
"But also I am not so interested in fame. Maybe it’s the times that I am living in. There is something about fame that seems to dull people down."
in barbecue smoke making chin music-- madras warrior, what do you think? do you find yourself elsewhere? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Last night in my astro recliner, a lawyer highliting certain ossia pons asinorum portions of writ to enlarge for a
"You can't have reliable partners in a war on terrorism if they are torturing and killing their own people."
When Tom Bradley was a little boy he was given a gazetteer for Christmas. As little boys will, he looked up all the places in the world that start with the F-word. There were two, Fukien in China and Fukuoka in Japan. Little did he suspect that he would one day be exiled to both.
"Writing a novel is like doing the Appalachian Trail by yourself. You're out there, nobody to talk to, nobody knows what you are doing, and if you have this great burst and you want to run out of your office and tell about this great scene, nobody is remotely interested."
"Ego drives a lot of writers, and it drives me. I can be pretty modest with you, but I have to admit when I am by myself I have goals and I want my stories to be read. And I think there is some art in them."
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day." --Henry V, iv, iii He considered going over to kill Hitler or Hirohito or somebody, but Uncle Sam had no boots or uniforms anywhere near his size. So they put him in Military Intelligence and sent