The Blind See What They Want To

I Still Get Up Every Morning At 4 A.m. I Write Seven Days A Week, Including Christmas. And I Still Face A Blank Page Every Morning, And My Characters Don't Really Care How Many Books I've Sold.

Her Eyes Were Olive Green―incisive And Clear.

It Seemed There Was Always A Close Correlation Between True Believers And High Body Counts.

The Woman Dashed Up The Staircase Toward The Library's Main Doors. Arriving At The Top Of The Stairs, She Grabbed The Handle And Tried Desperately To Open Each Of The Three Giant Doors. The Library's Closed, Lady. But The Woman Didn't Seem To Care. She Seized One Of The Heavy Ring-shaped Handles, Heaved It Backward, And Let It Fall With A Loud Crash Against The Door. Then She Did It Again. And Again. And Again. Wow, The Homeless Man Thought, She Must Really Need A Book.

The Laws Of Physics Are The Canvas God Laid Down On Which To Paint His Masterpiece.