I Hate That Word Dysfunction.

Patty Knew, In Her Heart, That He Was Wrong In His Impression Of Her. And The Mistake She Went To Go On To Make, The Really Big Life Mistake, Was To Go Along With Walter's Version Of Her In Spite Of Knowing That It Wasn't Right. He Seemed So Certain Of Her Goodness That Eventually He Wore Her Down.

Walter Had Never Liked Cats. They'd Seemed To Him The Sociopaths Of The Pet World, A Species Domesticated As An Evil Necessary For The Control Of Rodents And Subsequently Fetishized The Way Unhappy Countries Fetishize Their Militaries, Saluting The Uniforms Of Killers As Cat Owners Stroke Their Animals' Lovely Fur And Forgive Their Claws And Fangs. He'd Never Seen Anything In A Cat's Face But Simpering Incuriosity And Self-interest; You Only Had To Tease One With A Mouse-toy To See Where It's True Heart Lay...cats Were All About Using People

This Wasn't The Person He'd Thought He Was, Or Would Have Chosen To Be If He'd Been Free To Choose, But There Was Something Comforting And Liberating About Being An Actual Definite Someone, Rather Than A Collection Of Contradictory Potential Someones.

I'm Not Too Concerned What Happens To My Books After I'm Dead. But I Am Very Concerned By What's Going On With The Culture Of Reading And Writing Nowadays.

I Voluntarily Inflicted A Certain Level Of Insanity On Myself.