Sarah Vowell
Sarah Vowell
Sarah Jane Vowellis an American author, journalist, essayist, social commentator and actress. Often referred to as a "social observer," Vowell has written seven nonfiction books on American history and culture. She was a contributing editor for the radio program This American Life on Public Radio International from 1996 to 2008, where she produced numerous commentaries and documentaries and toured the country in many of the program's live shows. She was also the voice of Violet in the animated film The...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNon-Fiction Author
Date of Birth27 December 1969
CityMuskogee, OK
CountryUnited States of America
Being a nerd, which is to say going to far and caring too much about a subject, is the best way to make friends I know. For me, the spark that turns an acquaintance into a friend has usually been kindled by some shared enthusiasm like detective novels or Ulysses S. Grant.
Assassins and presidents invite the same basic question: Just who do you think you are?
Buffy's high school was built on top of a vortex of evil, the Hellmouth. And whose wasn't?
My audience is going to die before I do.
One night last summer, all the killers in my head assembled on a stage in Massachusetts to sing show tunes.
Once or twice a day, I am enveloped inside what I like to call the Impenetrable Shield of Melancholy. This shield, it is impenetrable. Hence the name. I cannot speak. And while I can feel myself freeze up, I can't do anything about it.
Behind every bad law, a deep fear.
That's what I like to call him, "the current president." I find it difficult to say or type his name, George W. Bush. I like to call him "the current president" because it's a hopeful phrase, implying that his administration is only temporary.
Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you.
If I looked in the mirror someday and saw no dark circles under my eyes, I would probably look better. I just wouldn't look like me.
I'm not really the scented envelope kid of girl, preferring instead to send yellow Jiffy-lite mailers packed with whatever song is on my mind.
Clemenza's overriding responsibility is to his family. He takes a moment out of his routine madness to remember that he had promised his wife that he would bring dessert home. His instruction to his partner in crime is an entire moral manifesto in six little words: 'Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.
That's what we Americans do when we find a place that's really special. We go there and act exactly like ourselves. And we are a bunch of fun-loving dopes.
Along with voting, jury duty, and paying taxes, goofing off is one of the central obligations of American citizenship.