When You're Reading, You're Not Where You

I Had One Last Try. "does It Bother You That I'm Not A Virgin?" He Hesitated A Moment Before Answering. "well, No," He Said Slowly, "so Long As It Doesna Bother You That I Am." He Grinned At My Drop-jawed Expression, And Backed Toward The Door. "reckon One Of Us Should Know What They're Doing," He Said. The Door Closed Softly Behind Him; Clearly The Courtship Was Over.

I Know Why The Jews And Muslims Have Nine Hundred Names For God; One Small Word Is Not Enough For Love.

Time Is A Lot Of The Things People Say That God Is. There's Always Preexisting, And Having No End. There's The Notion Of Being All Powerful-because Nothing Can Stand Against Time, Can It? Not Mountains, Not Armies. And Time Is, Of Course, All-healing. Give Anything Enough Time, And Everything Is Taken Care Of: All Pain Encompassed, All Hardship Erased, All Loss Subsumed. Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust. Remember, Man, That Thou Art Dust; And Unto Dust Thou Shalt Return. And If Time Is Anything Akin To God, I Suppose That Memory Must Be The Devil.

I Have No Objection To Well-written Romance, But I'd Read Enough Of It To Know That That's Not What I Had Written. I Also Knew That If It Was Sold As Romance I'd Never Be Reviewed By The 'new York Times' Or Any Other Literarily Respectable Newspaper - Which Is Basically True, Although The 'washington Post' Did Get Round To Me Eventually.

You Are Safe," He Said Firmly. "you Have My Name And My Family, My Clan, And If Necessary, The Protection Of My Body As Well. The Man Willna Lay Hands On Ye Again, While I Live.