The muffled tongue of Big Ben tolled nine by the clock as the cortege left the palace, but on history's clock it was sunset, and the sun of the old world was setting in a dying blaze of splendor never to be seen again.

I have always felt like an artist when I work on a book. I see no reason why the word should always be confined to writers of fiction and poetry.

The writer's object is - or should be - to hold the reader's attention.

Words are seductive and dangerous material, to be used with caution.

Human beings, like plans, prove fallible in the presence of those ingredients that are missing in maneuvers - danger, death, and live ammunition.

One must stop conducting research before one has finished. Otherwise, one will never stop and never finish.

I want the reader to turn the page and keep on turning to the end.