Sentences are like sharp nails, which force truth upon our memories.
So I try to stick with the structure, make the sentences work, and not to follow one sentence of 114 words with another of the same length.
There is an act of prejudice against us, and there needs to be great efforts to correct this. Clear sentences and words should be put into the draft to remove uncertainty,
My memory is basically visual: that's what I remember, rooms and landscapes. What I do not remember are what the people in these room were telling me. I never see letters or sentences when I write or read, but only the images they produce.
I reiterate my proposal of creating life sentences for politicians who make deals with organized criminals. They deserve the maximum penalty because a politician that makes deals with criminals - I've said it, and I repeat it - is no longer a politician but just another 'capo.'
The best sentence? The shortest.
Word-carpentry is like any other kind of carpentry: you must join your sentences smoothly.
You become a good writer just as you become a good joiner: by planing down your sentences.
I get a sentence, an idea, an image, and I start. I don't know anything beyond it. I follow it.
That's a cute sentence: the years to come. Why are you so sure they're coming?