We did not lose our attention all at once. It was taken in increments so small that each felt reasonable, even kind.

Money, like weather, has a temperature. When it runs warm, people forgive things they would otherwise count.

A city is an argument about how to live, made in concrete and repeated until it sounds like common sense.

Evidence is not a verdict. It is a weight, and the honest reader asks how heavy before asking which way.

There is a silence that is not absence but attention — the held breath of a room that has decided to listen.

The take is the enemy of the thought. It arrives finished, certain, and allergic to the time understanding takes.