A prose that is altogether alive demands something of the reader that the ordinary novel reader is not prepared to give.

A book is not harmless merely because no one is consciously offended by it.

I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

I love reading another reader’s list of favorites. Even when I find I do not share their tastes or predilections, I am provoked to compare, contrast, and contradict. It is a most healthy exercise, and one altogether fruitful.