Fbi Girl Is A Gorgeous, Sumptuous Book.

Until I Read Anne Frank's Diary, I Had Found Books A Literal Escape From What Could Be The Harsh Reality Around Me. After I Read The Diary, I Had A Fresh Way Of Viewing The Both Literature And The World. From Then On, I Found I Was Impatient With Books That Were Not Honest Or That Were Trivial And Frivolous.

In Ways I Don't Entirely Have The Words For An Experience, Thought Or A Lesson Isn't Real For Me Until I've Written Down.

It's A Long Day's Drive Any Way You Look At It. With A Man Who Has Taken Your Sins - Real And Imagined - And Stitched Them Onto The Sackcloth Of His Own Soul, It Is Endless.

I Don't Think We Have All The Words In A Single Vocabulary To Explain What We Are Or Why We Are. I Don't Think We Have The Range Of Emotion To Fully Feel What Someone Else Is Feeling. I Don't Think Any Of Us Can Sit In Judgment Of Another Human Being. We're Incomplete Creatures, Barely Scraping By. Is It Possible--from The Perspective Of This Quickly Spinning Earth And Our Speedy Journey From Crib To Coffin--to Know The Difference Between Right, Wrong, Good, And Evil? I Don't Know If It's Even Useful To Try.

People Who Disagree With His Excellency, The President For Life And 'chief Of Chiefs,' Are Frequently Found To Be The Victims Of Car Crashes (their Bodies Mysteriously Riddled With Bullets); Or Dead In Their Beds Of Heart Attacks (their Bodies Mysteriously Riddled With Bullets); Or The Recipients Of Some Not-quite-fresh Seafood (their Bodies Mysteriously Riddled With Bullets).