ExploreTheory & Craft
Progressive stages of revision eliminate incidence in favor of essence.
“I think he does not care for art; I fancy he has not even read Pushkin.”
I'll rid the world of bad things. But first, I need to get more coffee.
I used bravado to protect myself when we lived in poverty.
We take our solace, in a time of malaise and mourning, in the close-at-hand.
We caress the rough. Sensuous, delectable, and yet sorrowful.
Man is always beginning everything anew, even in his own life.
The survival of our world depends upon the cultivation of better language.
Fiction, no matter how short or long, is the art form of human yearning.
Americans have always a kind of tenderness for cheat.
The guards ripped off Mara’s clothes, pinning her head against the wall.
The excuse, of course, was that men had to support families.
You can go from one town square to another and never fall in love.
We need the opportunity to dance with really exquisite strangers.
I couldn’t love the tree in every soul shouldering its own tiny autumn.
I recoil from the certitude that religion can give a person; it’s horrific.
For one hundred years I followed old people to learn what I was in for.
The appendix on political correctness explains why none of that is funny.
Howard found himself dancing the merengue with a buxom Puerto Rican.
When push comes to shove, I can get downright Aeolian on you, son.
I do not want to fall prey to the bewitchment of my mind by language.
Subtract for the cigarettes, the bourbon, the sleepless nights.
There are the short and decisive words: yes, no, now, never, love, death, poetry.
Reader, you and I stand once more before the borderless.
To see—and to see properly—is the writer’s central responsibility.
Abandon the idea that arts and sciences are mutually exclusive.
Needless to say, when it was my night to read I was beyond terrified.
It holds a place in my heart: Never forget the suspenders.
Writing is a subversive activity that exempts you from the rules.