I'm rubber and you're glue," I told Satan, " and everything that bounces of me sticks to you.

I'm rubber and you're glue," I told Satan, " and everything that bounces of me sticks to you.

Here I am, just wandering down a deserted street in the middle of the night. I hope I don't run into any trouble. Goodness, that would just ruin my whole evening." I strolled and hummed, trying to project Innocent Victim.

I've got a folder full of rejection slips that I keep. Know why? Because those same editors are now calling my agent hoping I'll write a book or novella for them. Things change. A rejection slip today might mean a frantic call to your agent in six months.

It was scary how much she sounded like me sometimes. Maybe that's why she totally got on my nerves

Back off, boys. You don't want to mess with an out-of-work secretary. We're real testy.

Majesty, I beg your forgiveness for the idignity you suffered and offer you the head of our enemy as—" "Put that thing down," I said impatiently. "I can't talk to you when you're shaking his head like a damned maraca.