It was really amazing the number of hard hits from which a mind could recover.
The terror, which would not end for another 28 years-if it ever did end-began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain.
A good reputation is something that must be earned, yet can never be bought.
Wow. This makes grand central look like a bus stop in Buttfuck Nebraska.
Passing time adds false memories and modifies real ones.
Just the act of cooking made her feel better, because cooking was life.