I'd Been A Thriller Reader All My

A Calm Environment Is For After I Finish Work.

He Picked Up The Wrench And Broke The Guy’s Wrist With It, One, And Then The Other Wrist, Two, And Turned Back And Did The Same To The Guy Who Had Held The Hammer, Three, Four. The Two Men Were Somebody’s Weapons, Consciously Deployed, And No Soldier Left An Enemy’s Abandoned Ordnance On The Field In Working Order. The Doctor’s Wife Was Watching From The Cabin Door, All Kinds Of Terror In Her Face. "what?" Reacher Asked Her.

I Don't Care About The Little Guy. I Just Hate The Big Guy. I Hate Big Smug People Who Think They Can Get Away With Things.

He Looked At The Pain And He Set Himself Apart From It. He Saw It, Examined It, Identified It, Corralled It. He Isolated It. He Challenged It. You Against Me? Dream On, Pal. He Built Borders For It. Then Walls. He Built Walls And Forced The Pain Behind Them And Then He Moved The Walls Inward, Compressing The Pain, Crushing It, Boxing It In, Limiting It, Beating It.

I'm Not Really Into Gourmet Food; I'm The Kind Of Guy Who Just Stops By A Place That Looks Good Rather Than Heading For The Restaurant Of The Moment.