“There’s a Washington standard of casually putting things off the record. It’s really gone too far. I don’t know an easy way to turn it back.”

I thought writing about somebody current would be a little closer to what I’m used to doing.

When I came back to Washington to be The Times’ chief congressional correspondent in 1991, I was looking for a book subject, and Ted Kennedy stood out for two reasons.

Ted Kennedy’s achievements as a senator have towered over his time, changing the lives of far more Americans than remember the name Mary Jo Kopechne.

Gore speaks to America as if English is its second language; George W. speaks as if English is his second language.

Another thing that’s quite different in writing a book as a practicing newspaperman is that if you look at what you’ve written the next morning and you think you didn’t get it quite right, you can fix it.

Never relinquish clothing to a hotel valet without first specifically telling him that you want it back.

I knew Bobby Dylan back in the days when he lived in the village.

When I looked at the third base coach, he turned his back on me.

To put it rather bluntly, I am not the type who wants to go back to the land; I am the type who wants to go back to the hotel.

There is a point at which everything becomes simple and there is no longer any question of choice, because all you have staked will be lost if you look back. Life’s point of no return.

The ball was literally glued to the back of his foot – into the back of the net.

The myths have always condemned those who ‘looked back.’ Condemned them, whatever the paradise may have been which they were leaving. Hence this shadow over each departure from your decision.

It’s Satan’s delight to tell me that once he’s got me, he will keep me. But at that moment I can go back to God.