Pure, hard-core liberals believe in a superior race. They think they're it. They believe they're more intelligent than the general run of mankind, better suited than the little people are to manage the little people's lives. They think they have the one true vision, the ability to solve all the moral dilemmas of the century. They prefer big government because that is the first step to totalitarianism, toward unquestioned rule by the elite. And of course they see themselves as the elite.

The hard rain nailed the night to the city.

What we do as a society is seek simple answers.

She blinked, sat up, and saw Chris in the bathroom doorway. He'd just gotten out the shower. His hair was damp, and he was dressed only in his briefs. The sight of his thin, boyish body - all ribs and elbows and knees - pulled at her heart, for he looked so innocent and vulnerable. He was so small and fragile that she wondered how she could ever protect him, and renewed fear rose in her.

Whiskers of the cat, Webbed toes on my swimming dog; God is in the details.

Every writer has his own voice. Other than that I'm always trying to do change-ups and publishers haven't always been happy about that.

Then what are you? An electronic Hannibal Lector? You can't eat my liver with fava beans through a modem, you know.