If You Don't Count Some

In Canada, Nobody Is Ever Overthrown Because Nobody Gives A Damn.

Fiorito Has All The Right Stuff. His Splendid Memoir About His Relationship With His Dying Father Belongs On That Small Shelf With Philip Roth's Patrimony And Frank Mccourt's Angela's Ashes.

Mr. Bernard Died On A Monday, At The Age Of Seventy-five, His Body Wasted. He Lay In State For Two Days In The Lobby Of The Bernard Gursky Tower And, As He Failed To Rise On The Third, He Was Duly Buried.

Fundamentally, All Writing Is About The Same Thing; It's About Dying, About The Brief Flicker Of Time We Have Here, And The Frustration That It Creates.

And Furthermore Did You Know That Behind The Discovery Of America There Was A Jewish Financier?