It Was Only As I

The Arts And A Belief In The Values Of The Civil Rights Movement, In The Overwhelming Virtue Of Diversity, These Were Our Religion. My Parents Worshipped Those Ideals.

There Were Days When No Kid Came Out Of His House Without Looking Around. The Week After Halloween Had A Quality Both Hungover And Ominous, The Light Pitched, The Sky Smashed Against The Rooftops.

By Removing The Stories From The Morass Of Things That Surround Us, I'm Hoping To Achieve Some Kind Of Purer Approach To Emotional Life.

A Reader, Encountering A Sentence About A Barking Dog, Would Have To Dwell On Why That Choice Was Made At That Moment. Everything In A Novel Is Explicitly Chosen, Whereas Some Of What A Film Captures Feels Incidental, According To The Vagaries Of Photography And Sound Recording.

What Age Is A Black Boy When He Learns He's Scary?