There is, of course, a gold mine or a buried treasure on every mortgaged homestead. Whether the farmer ever digs for it or not, it is there, haunting his daydreams when the burden of debt is most unbearable.
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Housework is a breeze. Cooking is a pleasant diversion. Putting up a retaining wall is a lark. But teaching is like climbing a mountain.
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Richard Nixon lied to gain love, to shore up his grandiose fantasies, to bolster his ever-wavering sense of identity. He lied in attack, hoping to win and always he lied, and this most aggressively, to deny that he lied.
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A passion for politics stems usually from an insatiable need, either for power, or for friendship and adulation, or a combination of both.
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Show me a character whose life arouses my curiosity, and my flesh begins crawling with suspense.
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