..he Continues To Cling To

I Would Never Have Supposed That Inexperienced Girl Was Capable Of Such Cold-blooded, Calculating Manipulation!

I Don't Think She Realized How Much She Cared For Him, Or He For Her, Until The End. Hasn't Someone Said A Woman May Be Known By The Men Who Love Her Enough To Die For Her? (if They Haven't, I Claim The Credit Myself.)

Writing Is Like A Bird-watcher Watching For Birds: The Stories Are There: You Just Have To Train Yourself To Look For Them.

In The Silence I Heard Bastet, Who Had Retreated Under The Bed, Carrying On A Mumbling, Profane Monologue. (if You Ask How I Knew It Was Profane, I Presume You Have Never Owned A Cat.)

Who Are We Really? Combinations Of Common Chemicals That Perform Mechanical Actions For A Few Years Before Crumbling Back Into The Original Components? Fresh New Souls, Drawn At Random For Some Celestial Cupboard Where God Keeps An Unending Supply?or The Same Soul, Immortal And Eternal, Refurbished And Reused Through Endless Lives, By That Thrifty Housekeeper? In Her Wisdom And Benevolence She Wipes Off The Memory Slates, As Part Of The Cleaning Process, Because If We Could Remember All The Things We Have Experienced In Earlier Lives, We Might Object To Risking It Again.