Scraping the baked on Bar B Q sauce from the grabbing ends of the stainless steel tongs has my total attention.

I came suddenly awake and the rain was beating a furious rhythm on the rooftops, like a thousand shaken tambourines, like a thousand angry mojaves.

Although I have read a lot, I have drunk even more. I have written much less than most people who write, but I have drunk much more than most people who drink.