Quotes About Author

I DO have feelings for Curls. Feelings of annoyance and irritation, mainly, spiked with occasional pangs of pity.

And like most of her peers, Barbara Ann has a French postal worker's sense of divine entitlement when it comes to her hours.

Spec Ops: Case Studies in Special Operations Warfare: Theory and Practice.

Morrissey was my Mrs. Garrett, the house mother from the Facts of Life, a soothing adult figure giving me words of wisdom.

I swear, you are the only person I know who makes decisions based on what will provide the best material for a diary.

Conan Doyle deluded a century of readers into thinking we're all deductive geniuses.

Pooh hater,' I muttered under my breath. 'Winnie-the-Pooh was not a koala--why am I even arguing about this with you?

Who do you take me for?" "The devil?" Please. The devil wished he had half my style and a fourth my schemes.

Call my cell." He whipped out a card and passed it over. "Here's my number." I didn't bother to look at it. "I'm guessing 666- 6666." "Oh, right. As if that number weren't snatched up decades ago.

Mama said there was always a catastrophe coming. Someone's world was always coming to an end. It wasn't our worry to change every ending, only the endings we could

Savage death and ritual resurrection: upon these lodestones was Liege and Lief erected.

I read a few of those books on how to write a screenplay, but, just like I told you with the school thing, once again, most of those books are written by someone who's never written a good script. You look at the writer's credits and they've written one episode of The Golden Girls or something. People who write good scripts, write scripts. They don't write books about writing scripts.

Isabel, we have plenty of markers at home," Crispin said. "Yeah," Isabel said. "But ours don't have any drawings in them.

I didn't drive eleven hours across the state of Texas to watch my cholesterol.

It's a pity you didn't know when you started your game of murder, that I was playing, too.

More than ever, the creation of the ridiculous is almost impossible because of the competition it receives from reality.

The New York Times editorial writer eulogized-one might say "rhap-

said the Gazette, "Birmingham's thousands

In March the Lincoln County Weekly Tribune, revising its earlier bullish report,

and biographies of him have appeared at irregular intervals ever since. A search of "Buffalo Bill Cody

Clearly, the earl was a first-rate reporter, with an excellent memory. Dunraven accompanied

flooded the lot, a thousand spectators were in danger. Cody and

What a wonderful little girl.' Nor was His Highness displeased at what I had dared to do, for he, too, shook my hand warmly when

unworthy the Alhambra Varieties in its palmy days. But yet the house was crowded." Even though this critic disliked the play and the cast, he still praised Cody. Prentiss Ingraham, like Ned Buntline, was a colorful character in his own right. Like Buntline, Prentiss was the son of a writer, the Reverend J. H. Ingraham, author of The Prince of the House of David and other books, which his son rather irreverently called "dime novels about the Bible." Again like