Rarely Do Pens Go Dry In Restaurants.

You Need The Art In Order To Love The Life.

You Almost Believe That You Will Never Come To The End Of A Roll Of Tape; And When You Do, There Is A Feeling, Nearly, Though Very Briefly, Of Shock And Grief.

Maybe The Kindle Was The Bowflex Of Bookishness: Something Expensive That, When You Commit To It, Forces You To Do More Of Whatever It Is You Think You Should Be Doing More Of.

A Problem That I Have With Everything Fictional Is That Writers Are Always Having To Come Up With Sudden Artillery Explosions In The Middle Of Whatever Is Going On. The Characters Are Having Interesting, Subtle Interactions, Or Jealousies, Or Whatever It Is, And Suddenly Some Gigantic Angry Eruption Has To Happen, A Giant Gasp Where Everyone Has To Scramble Around. That's The Point Where I'm Turned Off. I Want The Dynamic Range To Be A Little Smaller. I Don't Like The Big False Bangs.

In Fact, You Could Make The Argument That A Historian Like Shlomo Aronson Does In Passing In One Of His Books, That The Bombing Campaign United The German Nation Behind Hitler, And Actually Contributed To The Sustaining Of His Power.