A Thing Named Is A Thing Tamed.

Guilleaume Left La Praline With A Small Bag Of Florentines In His Pocket; Before He Had Turned The Corner Of Avenue Des Francs Bourgeois I Saw Him Stoop To Offer One To The Dog. A Pat, A Bark, A Wagging Of The Short Stubby Tail. As I Said, Some People Never Have To Think About Giving.

You Priests. You're All The Same. You Think Fasting Helps You Think About God, When Anyone Who Can Cook Would Tell You That Fasting Just Makes You Think About Food.

All Those Moments, Those Memories. Everything That We Are, Compressed In Just Two Or Three Kilos Of Paper — The Weight Of A Human Heart.

The Wind Always Brings Us Back To The Same Wall

I Love It When My Books Cause Controversy, When People Argue Violently About The Ending.