Richard Yates, thanks for everything. Why is there an author who may be the favorite always and forever. One
good for all seasons and all moods.
The most intemperate, the most surrealists, the most caustic.
Richard Yates, thanks for everything. Because every book has become a minimalist miracle.
a magnifying glass to open up the abyss.
Thanks for everything.
Of all the words, all the blades hidden in each letter. One book after another
any given night. Those
when I was only beginning to end and also those in which no company seemed to comfort me.
Richard Yates, who made me a ride out of the winters more desperate than ever.
Thanks for all the honest accuracy, relentless rationality and perfect as detailed analysis of living uneasily in apparent normal.
Richard Yates, who did not want success, but wanted readers.
Thank you, one of them.
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