I'm a pretty uncomplicated person. I live a very simple life with my family and I enjoy very ordinary things.

James Parkinson. George Huntington. Robert Graves. John Down. Now this Lou Gehrig fellow of mine. How did men come to monopolize disease names too?

If thou art indeed my father, then hast thou stained thy sword in the life-blood of thy son. And thous didst it of thine obstinacy. For I sought to turn thee unto love, and I implored of thee thy name, for I thought to behold in thee the tokens recounted of my mother. But I appealed unto thy heart in vain, and now is the time gone for meeting.

There will be no floating waway. There will be no other reality tonight.

If you connect emotionally with the plight of those characters, ou feel what they feel and you walk away with a sense of understanding and empathy, and hopefully, something has been illuminated for you. And I tink that's what happendd for a lot of readers with my novels.

As far as I know, he never asked where she had been or why she had left and she never told. I guess some stories do not need telling.

Time can be a greedy thing-sometimes it steals the details for itself.