There Is Always The Risk:

We're Professional Worriers. You're Constantly Imagining Things That Could Go Wrong And Then Writing About Them.

You Can’t Divorce Margo The Person From Margo The Body. You Can’t See One Without Seeing The Other. You Looked At Margo’s Eyes And You Saw Both Their Blueness And Their Margo-ness. In The End, You Could Not Say That Margo Roth Spiegelman Was Fat, Or That She Was Skinny, Any More Than You Can Say That The Eiffel Tower Is Or Is Not Lonely. Margo’s Beauty Was A Kind Of Sealed Vessel Of Perfection – Uncracked And Uncrackable.

I Want To Minimize The Deaths I Am Responsible For.

I Can't Be You. You Can't Be Me. You Can Imagine Another Well—but Never Quite Perfectly, You Know?

Books So Special And Rare And Yours That Advertising Your Affection Feels Like A Betrayal.