A woman who shaves or otherwise depilates her pubic curls has a profound interest in recreational sex.

Being an author means, almost by definition, that you make up characters and then complicate their lives. That's it, really. You make up characters and give them problem after problem after problem.

I have no phobias. Phobias are irrational. My fears are rational and CAREFULLY CULTIVATED, like roses.

I knew it was beautiful, but knowing something is beautiful and caring about it are two very different things, and I didn't care.

We heard her come halfway up the stairs, where she must have seen the bedroom light on. Again, the normal parent reaction would have been to say something like, "You had better come out this moment or I am releasing the tiger!" But Debbie was not a normal parent, so we heard her gigle and creep away, saying, "Shhh! Rachel! Come with Mommy! Stuart is busy!

I may have been a complete lunatic, but I was a complete lunatic with manners.

Did you hear?" he asked. "They found another body around nine this morning. It's the Ripper, definitely." "Good morning," I replied. "Morning. Listen to this. The second victim.