Writing Is Rewriting What You Have Rewritten.

Our Small Ears Never Had Such A Workout As On The Fourth Of July, Hearing Not Only Our Own Bursting Crackers But Also Those Of Our Friends, And Often The Boom Of Homemade Cannon Shot Off By Daring Boys Of 16 Years, Ready To Lose A Hand If It Blew Up.

I Had Been Warned About Jews By My Gentile Friends - They Did Terrible Things With Knives To Boys.

The Sharpest Memory Of Our Old-fashioned Christmas Eve Is My Mother's Hand Making Sure I Was Settled In Bed.

For My Oxford Degree, I Had To Translate French And German Philosophy (as It Turned Out, Descartes And Kant) At Sight Without A Dictionary. That Meant Germany For My First Summer Vacation, To Learn The Thorny Language On My Own.

Human Life Is Too Difficult For People.