I Started Writing Stories In My Spare

Ethel Said: "lloyd, There's Someone Here You May Remember-" Daisy Could Not Restrain Herself. She Ran To Lloyd And Threw Herself Into His Arms. She Hugged Him. She Looked Into His Green Eyes, Then Kissed His Brown Cheeks And His Broken Nose And Then His Mouth. "i Love You, Lloyd," She Sad Madly. "i Love You, I Love You, I Love You." "i Love You, Too, Daisy," He Said. Behind Her, Daisy Heard Ethel's Wry Voice. "you Do Remember, I See.

I Went And Looked At One Of These Great Cathedrals One Day, And I Was Blown Away By It. From There I Became Interested In How Cathedrals Were Built, And From There I Became Interested In The Society That Built The Medieval Cathedral. It Occurred To Me At Some Point That The Story Of The Building Of A Cathedral Could Be A Great Popular Novel.

Why Do You Have To Be The Same As The Others? ...most Of Them Are Stupid.

Why Was It, Lloyd Wondered, That The People Who Wanted To Destroy Everything Good About Their Country Were The Quickest To Wave The National Flag?

There Is A Real Connection Between Philosopy And Fiction.