A novelist is someone who sits around the house all day in his underwear, trying not to smoke. — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
I was raised in a house on the far South Side of Chicago, in a development erected on a landfill made from slag and other industrial by-products a few years after World War II. — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
You're all I care about," I said. "No. And me. The person I am when I'm with you, the way I see myself and… — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
Writers are stewards of the culture. Publishers, librarians, bookstore owners. We're all in this together. To write books that are gripping, important, that people… — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
The trouble with excuses, however, is that they become inevitably difficult to believe after they’ve been used a couple of times. — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
“I never think of the life I'll miss after I'm dead, or all that I missed before I was born. It's the time I'm… — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
All I wanted was what I'd already had. That exultation, that love. It was my one real home; I was a visitor everywhere else. — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
“It was the first time I had heard the truth of what happened that afternoon said in a voice that was not my own.… — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
A novelist is someone who sits around the house all day in his underwear, trying not to smoke. — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
“On a ship that's made of paper, I would sail the seven seas. (Just to be with you.)” — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
Contempt is a dangerous emotion, luring us into believing that we understand more than we do. Contempt causes us to jeer rather than speak,… — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
“If endless love was a dream, then it was a dream we all shared, even more that we all shared the dream of never… — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
“Love gives us a heightened consciousness through which to apprehend the world, but anger gives us a precise, detached perception of its own.” — Scott Spencer Copy Share Image
