How to Fly: In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons

by Barbara Kingsolver

Everything that can wreck a life has been done before, done to you, even.

As people do, we’ve come looking for proof that the dead of the past were just like us. And grow quiet, having found it.

Critics are asses, I told him. Why make art for people who never make anything, who live only to dismember it and send its creators to sit in the corner like children?

molluscan ambition.