It Has Long Been My

Muses Are Fickle, And Many A Writer, Peering Into The Voice, Has Escaped Paralysis By Ascribing The Creative Responsibility To A Talisman: A Lucky Charm, A Brand Of Paper, But Most Often A Writing Instrument. Am I Writing Well? Thank My Pen. Am I Writing Badly? Don't Blame Me Blame My Pen. By Such Displacements Does The Fearful Imagination Defend Itself.

I Can Imagine Few Worse Fates Than Walking Around For The Rest Of One's Life Wearing A Typo.

If My Father Were Still Writing Essays, Every Full-grown 'girl' Would Probably Be Transformed Into A'woman'.

I Am Very Grateful To The Electronic World For Making My Life Easier, But There Is Something About Holding A Book - The Smell And The World Of Association. Even When E-books Are Perfected, As They Surely Will Be, It Will Be Like Being In Bed With A Very Well-made Robot Rather Than A Warm, Soft, Human Being Whom You Love.

I Have Always Felt That The Action Most Worth Watching Is Not At The Center Of Things But Where Edges Meet. I Like Shorelines, Weather Fronts, International Borders. There Are Interesting Frictions And Incongruities In These Places, And Often, If You Stand At The Point Of Tangency, You Can See Both Sides Better Than If You Were In The Middle Of Either One.