With Method And Logic One Can Accomplish

It Is Really A Hard Life. Men Will Not Be Nice To You If You Are Not Good-looking, And Women Will Not Be Nice To You If You Are.

I Like Living. I Have Sometimes Been Wildly, Despairingly, Acutely Miserable, Racked With Sorrow, But Through It All I Still Know Quite Certainly That Just To Be Alive Is A Grand Thing.

It Is Clear That The Books Owned The Shop Rather Than The Other Way About. Everywhere They Had Run Wild And Taken Possession Of Their Habitat, Breeding And Multiplying, And Clearly Lacking Any Strong Hand To Keep Them Down.

She Didn't Give George Any Too Easy A Time When She Was Alive. She Was One Of Those Semi-invalids – I Believe She Had Really Something Wrong With Her, But Whatever It Was She Played It For All It Was Worth. She Was Capricious, Exacting, Unreasonable. She Complained From Morning To Night. George Was Expected To Wait On Her, Hand And Foot And Everything He Did Was Always Wrong And He Got Cursed For It. Most Men, I'm Fully Convinced, Would Have Hit Her With A Hatchet Long Ago.

I Know Nothing About Pistols And Revolvers, Which Is Why I Usually Kill Off My Characters With A Blunt Instrument Or Better With Poisons. Besides, Poisons Are Neat And Clean And Really Exciting... I Do Not Think I Could Look A Really Ghastly Mangled Body In The Face. It Is The Means That I Am Interested In. I Do Not Usually Describe The End, Which Is Often A Corpse.