Everyone Sees Different Things.

I Was Blessed To Grow Up In Really Interesting Times And To Go Back To A Home Where I Was Very Safe.

Grief, He Said, Is Carnivorous.

We Were Supposed To Grow Old Together, Dolores. Have Kids. Take Walks Under Old Trees. I Wanted To Watch The Lines Etch Themselves Into Your Flesh And Know When Each And Every One Of Them Appeared. Die Together.

In Greek Tragedy, They Fall From Great Heights. In Noir, They Fall From The Curb.

I Can't Remember Coming Across A More Precise Evocation Of Innocence Lost Since Golding's The Lord Of The Flies. With The Death Of Sweet Mister, Daniel Woodrell Has Written His Masterpiece-spare, Dark, And Incandescently Beautiful. It Broke My Heart.