"When you first get married, they open the car door for you. Eighteen years now...once he opened the car door for me in the last four years - we were on the freeway at the time."

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My father's death when I was eighteen and his struggles as a Jewish immigrant provided me with the raw material, but for a long time I went from painting to fiction and then finally to poetry before I could find the right way of telling this story.

— Philip Schultz