Hardly Anyone About Whom I Deeply Care

Do You Realize How Angry You Sound?” Must Be One Of The Most Infuriating Questions In The Language.

I Took A Little Celebrational Nap.

My Dislike Has No Consequences. It Accrues Only In My Mind—like Preserves On A Shelf Or Guns Zeroing In, And Never Firing.

In Almost Every Thriller, A Point Is Reached When Someone, Usually Calling From A Phone Booth, Telephones With A Vital Piece Of Information, Which He Cannot Divulge By Phone. By The Time The Hero Arrives At The Place Where They Had Arranged To Meet, The Caller Is Dead, Or Too Near Death To Tell. There Is Never An Explanation For The Reluctance Of The Caller To Impart His Message In The First Place.

The Radical Intelligence In The Moderate Position Is The Only Place Where The Center Holds. Or So It Seems.