My favorite written works of all time
1) “The Silent Season of a Hero,” by Gay Talese
More than any other story, taught me that simplicity can be stylish and that a reporter can paint a picture without embellishing his subject.

Favorite passage:
There are some baseball trophies and plaques in the small room of DiMaggio’s bedroom, and on his dresser are photographs of Marilyn Monroe, and in the living room downstairs is a small painting of her that DiMaggio likes very much; it reveals only her face and shoulders and she is wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat, and there is a soft, sweet smile on her lips, an innocent curiosity about her that is the way he saw her and the way he wanted her to be seen by others -- a simple girl, a “warm, big-hearted girl,’ he once described her, ‘that everybody took advantage of.”

2) “The Bonfire of the Vanities,” by Tom Wolfe
Everyone, at least once in their life, has tried to write like Tom Wolfe, and everyone has probably failed.
You can’t copy Tom Wolfe.  He’s like the Mango of authors.  Can you catch the wind?  Can you put a rainbow in your pocket?
No!  Such is the genius of Tom Wolfe.

Favorite passage:
Then, without any preamble, she said, “What do you do, Mr. McCoy?”
Sherman was taken aback.  He was speechless . . . A nonentity, a thirty-five-year-old X ray, and yet . . . I want to impress her!  The possible answers came thundering through his mind . . . I’m a senior member of the bond division at Pierce and Pierce . . . No . . . makes it sound as if he’s a replaceable part in a bureaucracy and proud to be one . . . I’m the number one producer . . . No . . . not accurate and an utterly gauche observation . . .  I made $980,000 selling bonds last year. . . That was the true heart of the matter, but there was no way to impart such information without appearing foolish.  I’m -- a Master of the Universe!

3) “Into Thin Air,” by Jon Krakauer
Hey, remember that action scene from the movie "Heat"?  Remember why it was so good?
It was realistic.  There weren’t any gaudy explosions or flying cars or super-human stunts.  Everything in that scene, though mind-blowing, seemed real, as if it could happen.
That’s kind of the beauty of this book.  Everything seems possible because it is possible -- it’s a non-fictional account -- and giving a straight account of the story works perfectly because Krakauer’s experience in Everest is already incredible by itself. 
 
This is probably the best introductory paragraph of any book:
Straddling the top of the world, one foot in China and the other in Nepal, I cleared the ice from my oxygen mask, hunched a shoulder against the wind, and stared absently down at the vastness of Tibet. I understood on some dim, detached level that the sweep of earth beneath my feet was a spectacular sight. I’d been fantasizing about this moment, and the release of emotion that would accompany it, for many months. But now that I was finally here, actually standing on the summit of Mount Everest, I just couldn’t summon the energy to care.