He was the child of a father who was not his father; but also the child of a time which damaged reality so badly that nobody ever managed to put it together again;
Salman RushdieAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer
- Nationality: indian
- Born: June 19, 1947
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Stephanie: “I have a list of Kenny's friends. I'm going to run through it.”
Morelli: “Where'd you get this list?”
Stephanie: “Privileged information.”
Morelli: “You broke into his apartment and stole his little black book.”
Stephanie: “I didn't steal it. I copied it.”
Morelli: “I don't want to here any of this. You're not carrying concealed, are you?”
Stephanie: “Who, me?”
Morelli: “Shit, I must be crazy to work with you
Janet Evanovich
Among the gifts of the Spirit, scarcely is one of greater practical usefulness than the gift of discernment. This gift should be highly valued and frankly sought as being almost indispensable in these critical times. This gift will enable us to distinguish the chaff from the wheat and to divide the manifestations of the flesh from the operations of the Spirit.
Aiden Wilson Tozer
We forget that every good that is worth possessing must be paid for in strokes of daily effort. We postpone and postpone until those smiling possibilities are dead... By neglecting the necessary concrete labor, by sparing ourselves the little daily tax, we are positively digging the graves of our higher possibilities.
William James
James Cain – faugh! Everything he touches smells like a billygoat. He is every kind of writer I detest, a faux naf, a Proust in greasy overalls, a dirty little boy with a piece of chalk and a board fence and nobody looking. Such people are the offal of literature, not because they write about dirty things, but because they do it in a dirty way. Nothing hard and clean and cold and ventilated. A brothel with a smell of cheap scent in the front parlor and a bucket of slops at the back door....
Raymond Chandler
