The White May Blossom Swooned Slowly Into

I Don't Make A Distinction Between Men And Women. To Me They Are Just People.

That's One Of The Many Things I Hate About Life, That It's A Hideously Cliched Business.

And Indeed Nothing Had Happened, A Momentous Nothing, Just Another Of The Great World's Shrugs Of Indifference.

With The Crime Novels, Its Delightful To Have Protagonists I Can Revisit In Book After Book. Its Like Having A Fictitious Family.

...being Alone With Him Was Like Being In A Room Which Someone Had Just Violently Left