Maybe This Was One Of Those Times

We Have Lived Too Long. The Great Days Are Past.

About As Close You Can Get To The Perfect Cerebral Thriller: Searingly Smart, Ridiculously Funny, And Fast As Hell... I Defy Anybody To Read The First Page And Not Keep Going To The Last.

The Novel Is A Highly Corrupt Medium, After All - In The End The Vast Majority Of Them Simply Aren't That Great, And Are Destined To Be Forgotten.

More Than Fantasy Or Even Science Fiction, Ray Bradbury Wrote Horror, And Like So Many Great Horror Writers He Was Himself Utterly Without Fear, Of Anything. He Wasn't Afraid Of Looking Uncool - He Wasn't Scared To Openly Love Innocence, Or To Be Optimistic, Or To Write Sentimentally When He Felt That Way.

It Was Strange To Be Naked In Front Of Anybody. It Was Like That Cold Water Out There In The Bay: Scary, You Didn’t Think You Could Stand It, But Then You Plunged In And Pretty Soon You Got Used To It. There Was Enough Hiding In Life. Sometimes You Just Wanted To Show Somebody Your Tits.