DeAngelo blew up my bus, so I filled his car with shit. Genius, right?"DeAngelo didn't blow up the bus," Connie said. "I just got the report from the fire marshal. The coffeemaker shorted out and started the fire."Some of the color left Vinnie's face. "Say what?"Oh man," Lula said. "DeAngelo is gonna be pissed. Least he won't know who did it."I left a note," Vinnie said. Lula gave a hoot of laughter and fell off her chair.
Janet EvanovichAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: April 22, 1943
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What an abyss of uncertainty, whenever the mind feels overtaken by itself; when it, the seeker, is at the same time the dark region through which it must go seeking and where all its equipment will avail it nothing. Seek? More than that: create. It is face to face with something which does not yet exist, which it alone can make actual, which it alone can bring into the light of day.
Marcel Proust
A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!
Charles Dickens