War Created Bizarre Allies, While Peace Itself

His Eyes Beheld Beauty Not In Reality But In The Printed Word. Standing In The Waiting-room, He Realized That In His Life He Had Accepted Secondary Experience -- The Experience Of Reading Someone Else's Thoughts -- Over Real Life.

I Used To Think That: Whenever I Heard That Someone Had Taken 10 Years To Write A Novel, I'd Think It Must Be A Big, Serious Book. Now I Think, 'no - It Took You One Year To Write, And Nine Years To Sit Around Eating Kit Kats.

Was It All Inevitable, John?" Reeve Was Pushing His Fingers Across The Floor Of The Cell, Seated On His Haunches. I Was Lying On The Mattress. Yes," I Said. "i Think It Was. Certainly, It's Written That Way. The End Of The Book Is There Before The Beginning's Hardly Started.

Witches Never Existed, Except In People’s Minds. All There Was In The Olden Days Was Women And Some Men Who Believed In Herbal Cures And In Folklore And In The Wish To Fly. Witches? We’re All Witches In One Way Or Another. Witches Was The Invention Of Mankind, Son. We’re All Witches Beneath The Skin.

Rebus Was Eating Breakfast In The Canteen And Wishing There Was More Caffeine In The Coffee, Or More Coffee In The Coffee Come To That.