Una palabraTo horse around
Me hace gracia, porque me imagino a un potrillo dando coces por el campo, trotando feliz, como los críos que hacen payasadas.
It became a habit of mine never to leave the house without making sure I had a pencil in my pocket. It’s not that I had any particular plans for that pencil, but I didn’t want to be unprepared […] if nothing else, the years have taught me this: if there’s a pencil in your pocket, there’s a good chance that one day you’ll feel tempted to start using it […] That’s how I became a writer. (Page 55)