Do we take less pride in the possession of our home because its walls were built by some unknown carpenter, its tapestries woven by some unknown weaver on a far Oriental shore, in some antique time? No. We show our home to our friends with the pride as if it were our home, which it is. Why then should we take less pride when reading a book written by some long-dead author? Is it not our book just as much, or even more so, than theirs? So the landowner says, __ook at my beautiful home! Isn__ it fine?_ And not, __ook at the home so-and-so has built._ Thus we shouldn__ cry, __ook what so-and-so has written. What a genius so-and-so is!_ But rather, __ook at what I have read! Am I not a genius? Have I not invented these pages? The walls of this universe, did I not build? The souls of these characters, did I not weave?

To sense the peace of extinguished passionHappiness in not knowing the ultimate knowledge

Storytelling answers questions and solves mysteries.

For god sake, open your eyes...the truth is crimes are real... the trouble is real... the horror is real... OPEN THE FUCKING EYES, you have freedom of speech, freedom do go to jail... My favourite characters are this in the jail!If you ask me with what I will open my eyes, my answer is with the critical edition The Leuchter Reports: Critical Editionby Fred A. Leuchter, The Age of Reason by Thomas Paine, The Common Sense by Thomas Paine

It is true that novelists are shameless and obey no decent law, and they are not to be trusted on any account, but some Mysteries even they must honor.

Some mysteries bite and barkand come to get you in the dark.