Courage Is A Muscle That Develops Through

I Think The Recent Cluster Of Wwii Novels Is So Good Because We Have Reached An Optimal Distance From The War. Just As A Lens Has Its Focal Length, The Novel Also Has Its Best Distance From The Action.

It Was The Month Of May And There Was Warm Sunshine Dripping Through The Holes Between The Clouds, Like The Sky Was A Broken Blue Bowl And A Child Was Trying To Keep Honey In It.

They Say That In The Hour Before An Earthquake The Clouds Hang Leaden In The Sky, The Winds Slows To A Hot Breath, And The Birds Fall Quiet In The Trees Of The Town Square. Yes But These Are The Same Portents That Precede Lunchtime, Frankly.

The Future Looks Like Gasoline. . . . Crude Oil . . . Is The Future Before It Has Been Refined. It Is Like A Dream Of The Future, Really, And Like Any Dream It Ends With A Rude Awakening.

Even For A Girl Like Me, Then, There Comes A Day When She Can Stop Surviving And Start Living. To Survive, You Have To Look Good Or Talk Good. But To End Your Story Well-- Here Is The Truth-- You Have To Talk Yourself Out Of It.