I loved having a dad who was smarter than the New York Times, and I loved how my cheek could feel the hairs on his chest through his T-shirt, and how he always smelled like shaving, even at the end of the day. Being with him made my brain quiet. I didn't have to invent a thing.

I was writing of something I did not know about, and it seems to me that in a so-called writer this is criminal.

It is the privilege and the labor of the apprentice of creation to come with his imagination into the unimaginable, and with his speech into the unspeakable.

Nowadays it would be reasonable to have an annual world championship.

Written By Boris Spassky

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