I picked up the writing on the very day he died. It was the only consolation I could find.

For Catholics before Vatican II, the land of the free was pre-eminently the land of Sister Says-except, of course, for Sister, for whom it was the land of Father Says.

Mr Michener, as timeless as a stack of National Geographics, is the ultimate Summer Writer. Just as one goes back to the cottage in Maine, so one goes back to one's Michener.

One reason the human race has such a low opinion of itself is that it gets so much of its wisdom from writers.

Every writer is a writer of the generation before.

as he was with all women he knew 'personally' . . . or respected even a little bit.