But Peggy Jo didn’t just rob a bank. Beginning with that May 1991 trip to American Federal, she robbed lots of banks. According to the FBI, she was one of the most unusual bank robbers of her generation ... - Skip Hollandsworth, "The Last Ride of Cowboy Bob" 2005 texasmonthly.com/articles/the-l…

His charisma bleached the identities of his five children. I spent years of my childhood trying to win his approval and years of my adolescence trying to provoke his disapproval, until I had to accept that he didn’t care either way. – Peter Schjeldahl, "The Art of Dying" 2019

Advice to aspiring youth: in New York, the years that you spend as a nobody are painful but golden, because no one bothers to lie to you. The moment you’re a somebody, you have heard your last truth.  – Peter Schjeldahl, "The Art of Dying" 2019

I dodged the Vietnam draft by staying awake for three days and nights on speed, taking any other drugs that came to hand, rolling in dirt, presenting myself at the induction center on Whitehall Street, and trying to coöperate.  – Peter Schjeldahl, "The Art of Dying" 2019

Mother hunger—to be one or have one—both of them were reeling from that longing which, Lina knew, remained alive, traveling the bone. – Toni Morrison, "A Mercy" 2008

In my drinking years, I took to saying, for a laugh, “The only thing I want in life is a written apology from everyone I’ve ever met.” – Peter Schjeldahl, "The Art of Dying" 2019

Arrogant! But, truth to tell, arrogance—as a placeholder for confidence, of which I had none—enabled me to brave the world when I was young. – Peter Schjeldahl, "The Art of Dying" 2019

I regret my lack of the church and its gift of community. My ego is too fat to squeeze through the door. – Peter Schjeldahl, "The Art of Dying" 2019

A novel wants to befriend you, a short story almost never. – Joy Williams vice.com/en_us/article/…

Don’t waste the chance to have truths, great and small, burst upon you. – Peter Schjeldahl, "The Art of Dying" 2019 The New Yorker newyorker.com/magazine/2019/…

Whoops broke my own heart again.

In that sad mid-point of her life, she used whisky and strong beer, sometimes mixed with sleeping pills, to deaden the pain of having too many children, never enough money, and knock-down fights with my father, the love of her life. — Paula Halpin theglobeandmail.com/life/first-per…