It’s not unsporting to thrash a cowardly cad,’ said Simmons. ‘Everyone knows you don’t fight like a gentleman.’ ‘That might be called an oxymoron,’ Ramses said. ‘Oh–sorry. Bad form to use long words. Look it up when you get home.’ The poor devil didn’t know how to fight, like a gentleman or otherwise.
I’ve been reading ghost stories ever since I could read. I’m immensely curious about ghosts and UFOs and all that stuff, but I’m a very hard-headed person.
People who relate what they believe to be new and startling information like to have such information received with exclamations of astonishment and admiration.
Loving someone condemns you to a lifetime of fear. You become painfully conscious of how fragile people are – bundles of brittle bones and vulnerable flesh, breeding grounds for billions of deadly germs and horrible diseases.
Cats always made up to the people who hated them the most. Depending on how you chose to look at it, it was a touching manifestation of trust, or a malicious pleasure in human discomfort.
