Self-criticism,
like self-administered brain surgery,
is perhaps not a good idea.
Joyce Carol Oates, The Faith of a Writer: Life, Craft, Art
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The gravel road rides with a slow gallop over the fields, the telephone lines streaming behind, its billow of dust full of the sparks of the...
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Tell me: how is this night different, from all other nights? How, tell me, is this Passover, different from other Passovers? Light the lamp,...
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I envy those who envy me for traveling. Sometimes I sit on a foreign street in a busy cafe, imagining you wishing you were here, ...