I think the best writing advice I’ve ever gotten is that both humor and tragedy live in the imagination, so a little coyness goes a long way.

"John was thrown out of St. Bartleby’s for an embarrassing incident involving a chicken, some horseradish, and an otherwise prudish vicar" is generally funnier than actually describing, in detail, what John did.

For sale: Baby shoes, never worn” is generally going to be more quietly, gently sad than describing the messy necessities of grief.

(via odense)