You can't eat [literature], that's the problem," he said. "I've tried, it's very dry, and not at all nutritious.

IMBECILE!" the chef shouted. "Next time why don't you just put your whole HAND in the food, hey? Yes, your whole hand, or maybe your FACE! I arrange the food on plates with care, are you understanding what I am telling you? It is part of the art form of cooking, yes? A lovely plate of food is a thing of beauty! And then you, NUMBSKULL, come along and put your fat greasy FINGERS all over my plate, and SHAKE the plate, and move my food all around the plate until it looks like pigs' vomit!" "Chef Vlad!" I cried out in delight.

Let me get you all some punch,” I said. “You're leaving us?” said Isabel, sounding panicky. “I'll be right back,” I promised. “If anyone comes near you, just scream and run.

It's somewhat disquieting that the same parents and educators who are horrified by the notion of child soldiers have bestowed upon 'The Hunger Games' a double mantle of critical praise and global bestsellerdom.

I raised my hands, trying to shush her. "Don't shush me," she said, eyes blazing. "I hate being shushed.

I'm cursed with this puritanical streak that makes me want everything to be about something. It's a terrible affliction.

We did it!" I said, feeling limp with relief. "It actually worked!" Dr. Turgenev rubbed his forehead. "I had very big doubts." "Big doubts?" I said weakly. The Russian scientist shrugged. "I am pessimist," he said.