All that five thousand kids lived in those five thousand houses, owned by guys that got off the train. The houses looked so much alike that, time and time again, the kids went home by mistake to different houses and different families. Nobody ever noticed.
Ken KeseyAbout author
- Author's profession: Author, Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: September 17, 1935
- Died: November 10, 2001
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Style is a very simple matter; it is all rhythm. Once you get that, you can't use the wrong words. But on the other hand here am I sitting after half the morning, crammed with ideas, and visions, and so on, and can't dislodge them, for lack of the right rhythm. Now this is very profound, what rhythm is, and goes far deeper than any words. A sight, an emotion, creates this wave in the mind, long before it makes words to fit it.
Virginia Woolf
Fang: "There is one bright side to this."
Max: "Yeah? What's that?" The new and improved Erasers would mutilate us before they killed us?
Fang: *grins* You looove me. (holds out arms) You love me this much.
Max: My shriek of appalled rage would probably be heard in California, or maybe Hawaii.
James Patterson