What you could say, and what I do argue in the book, is that he doesn’t have as much concern for the lives of Iraqis as he does for the lives of Americans, or even frozen American embryos.
Lives of great men oft remind us as we o’er their pages turn, That we too may leave behind us – Letters that we ought to burn.
I’m just fascinated by houses. In another life, I’d have probably trained as an architect. If I had enough money, I’d collect them like other people collect teapots. I don’t know why I love them so much. I’m just very interested in the idea of a house as a metaphor for the way one lives.
America is as much a black country as a white one. The lives and destinies of the white American are bound up inextricably with those of the black American.
Life comes to the miners out of their deaths, and death out of their lives.
There are people who want to make men’s lives more difficult for no other reason than the chance it provides them afterwards to offer their prescription for alleviating life; their Christianity, for instance.
People internalize, from the jail to student loan debt, to credit card debt, to unemployment to the whole collective. It manifests itself in many ways, in people’s home lives, domestic stuff.
He that lives to live forever, never fears dying.
An author is a fool who, not content with boring those he lives with, insists on boring future generations.
Moral habits, induced by public practices, are far quicker in making their way into men’s private lives, than the failings and faults of individuals are in infecting the city at large.