Rain is grace; rain is the sky condescending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life. - John Updike

No soul or locale is too humble to be the site of entertaining
and instructive fiction. Indeed, all other things being equal, the
rich and glamorous are less fertile ground than the poor and
plain, and the dusty corners of the world more interesting than
its glittering, already sufficiently publicized centers.

With his white collar he forges god’s name on every word he speaks

...but with his mother there's no question of liking him they're not even in a way separate people he began in her stomach and if she gave him life she can take it away and if he feels that withdrawal it will be the grave itself.