“It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.”— Sylvia Plath, amazon.com
“When I tell people I'm going to Idaho, they all say pretty much the same thing: 'Why the fuck would you want to go to Idaho?'”— Jim Goad, amazon.com
“The playback: late night, Brooklyn, a pot of coffee, and a chair by the window.”— Rob Sheffield, amazon.com
“Once I was young and had so much more orientation and could talk with nervous intelligence about everything and with clarity and without as much literary preambling as this; in other words this is the story of an unself-confident man, at the same time of an egomaniac, naturally, facetious won't do—j…”— Jack Kerouac, amazon.com
“Tommy Wiseau has always been an eccentric dresser, but on a late-summer night in 2002 he was turning the heads of every model, weirdo, transvestite, and face-life artist in and around Hollywood's Palm Restaurant.”— Greg Sestero, amazon.com
“This is a story about love and death in the golden land, and begins with the country.”— Joan Didion, amazon.com
“One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin.”— Franz Kafka, amazon.com
“The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.”— Oscar Wilde, amazon.com
“Whether we listen with aloof amusement to the dreamlike mumbo jumbo of some red-eyed witch doctor of the Congo, or read with cultivated rapture thin translations from the sonnets of the mystic Lao-tse; now and again crack the hard nutshell of an argument of Aquinas, or catch suddenly the shining mea…”— Joseph Campbell, amazon.com
“Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old-fashioned kind of running away.”— E.L. Konigsburg, amazon.com
“There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made.”— J.R.R. Tolkien, amazon.com
“From a little after two oclock until almost sundown of the long still hot weary dead September afternoon they sat in what Miss Coldfield still called the office because her father had called it that—a dim hot airless room with the blinds all closed and fastened for forty-three summers because when s…”— William Faulkner, amazon.com
“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.”— F. Scott Fitzgerald, amazon.com
“One night some twenty years ago, during a siege of mumps in our enormous family, my youngest sister, Franny, was moved, crib and all, into the ostensibly germ-free room I shared with my eldest brother, Seymour.”— J.D. Salinger, amazon.com
“Though brilliantly sunny, Saturday morning was overcoat weather again, not just topcoat weather, as it had been all week and as everyone had hoped it would stay for the big weekend—the weekend of the Yale game.”— J.D. Salinger, amazon.com