...what Was The Good Of Being A

A Summer Rain Had Left The Night Clean And Sparkling With Drops Of Water. I Leaned Against The End Pillar Of The Gallery, My Head Touching The Soft Tendrils Of A Jasmine Which Grew There In A Constant Battle With A Wisteria, And I Thought Of What Lay Before Me Throughout The World And Throughout Time, And Resolved To Go About It Delicately And Reverently, Learning That From Each Thing Which Would Take Me Best To Another.

Believe In Angels? Then Believe In Vampires. Believe In Me. There Are Worse Things On Earth.

Your Quest Is For Darkness Only. This Sea Is Not Your Sea. The Myths Of Men Are Not Your Myths. Men's Treasures Are Not Yours.

First-person Narrators Is The Way I Know How To Write A Book With The Greatest Power And Chance Of Artistic Success.

A Perfect World Or A World Destroyed, One Or The Other- Someday Will Come The End Of Hell.