No Good Ever Comes From Putting Up

The Leaves Had Fallen From The Trees And Lay Crisp And Crackling Beneath His Feet. Picking One Up He Marveled, Not For The First Time, At The Perfection Of Nature Where Leaves Were Most Beautiful At The Very End Of Their Lives.

I'm Just Like This. I Have No Talent For Choosing My Battles. Life Seems, Strangely, Like A Battle To Me. The Whole Thing.

The Question That Haunted Every Investigation Was 'why'.

What People Mistook For Safety Was In Fact Captivity.

A Journalist Also Needs To Be Disciplined, And So Do I. I Am, Essentially, Lazy. Without Discipline I'd Be Just A Mass Of Gummy Bears On The Sofa Instead Of On Book Tour With My Eighth Novel.