I Pride Myself On Having A Journalistic

His Weakness Was His Belief That Evil Had Boundaries.

Beneath The Gore And Smoke And Loam, This Book Is About The Evanescence Of Life, And Why Some Men Choose To Fill Their Brief Allotment Of Time Engaging The Impossible, Others In The Manufacture Of Sorrow. In The End It Is A Story Of The Ineluctable Conflict Between Good And Evil, Daylight And Darkness, The White City And The Black.

Leaves Hung In The Stillness Like Hands Of The Newly Dead.

I'm Very Perverse. If Someone Tells Me I Have To Read A Book, I'm Instantly Disinclined To Do So.

There's Something So Relentless And Foul About Hitler And His People, And The Way Things Progressed From Year To Year. It Just Got To Me In The Strangest Way.