The perception of a threat was eight times as good as a real one.
Every book should have a romance.
Who do readers expect to see when they pick up this book? Who has won the Most Troubled Romantic Lead at the BookWorld Awards seventy-seven times in a row? Me. All me.
Take no heed of her," explained Jones apologetically. "She reads a lot of books.
The opposition Prevailingwind Party led by Alfredo Traficcone.
The verses of Byron, Keats or Poe are real whether they are in bootleg form or not. You can still read them for the same effect.
Information can liberate but also imprisonate.
You don't like me, do you?' 'That would take effort,' she replied. 'Indifference is much, MUCH easier.
There is a contract between the reader and the writer. The readers give me their hard-earned cash, and I have to entertain them.
To fail spectacularly is a loser's paradise.
Defiance through compliance.
I could almost see common sense and denial fighting away at each other within her. In the end, denial won, as it so often does.
I loved him, officer. More than any woman ever loved an egg.
Prejudice is a product of ignorance that hides behind barriers of tradition.
Keep people reading books, Mum; it helps to reinforce and strengthen the indefinable moments that anchor us in the here and now. Strive for the long now.
Everything comes to an end. A good bottle of wine, a summer's day, a long-running sitcom, one's life, and eventually our species. The question for many of us is not that everything will come to an end but when. And can we do anything vaguely useful until it does?
Mrs. Hilly had gone for the Swindon/Szechuan fusion menu and had steak and chips dim sum followed by hot Fanta in a teapot.
They turned their attention to the wardrobe that held several Armani suits, all of them individually tailored to fit Humpty's unique stature and held up on hangers shaped like hula hoops.
I'd been an idiot to think that this was anything but a quest. Searches were nice and soft and cuddly and no one need be killed. A quest always demanded the death of a trusted colleague and one or more difficult dilemmas. I'd been in denial. I'd been a fool.
After all, color in itself has no color — it's simply a construction of the mind: a sensation, like the Humming Chorus from Madame Butterfly and the smell of honeysuckle.