The First Story I Finished Was When

Once, Long Ago, Parminder Had Told Barry The Story Of Bhai Kanhaiya, The Sikh Hero Who Had Administered To The Needs Of Those Wounded In Combat, Whether Friend Or Fo. When Asked Why He Gave Aid Indiscriminately, Bahai Kanhaiya Had Replied That The Light Of God Shone From Every Soul, And That He Had Been Unable To Distinguish Between Them.

Print Will Never Die. There's No Substitute For The Feel Of An Actual Book. I Adore Physically Turning Pages, And Being Able To Underline Passages And Not Worrying About Dropping Them In The Bath Or Running Out Of Power. I Also Find Print Books Objects Of Beauty.

Once Again You've Put Your Keen And Penetrating Mind To The Task And As Usual Come To The Wrong Conclusion!

So Why In The Name Of Merlin’s Saggy Left —” “don’t Talk To Your Mother Like That.

What Are We Doing Here? Has Something Gone Wrong?” “oh No, Ron,” Came Fred’s Voice, Very Sarcastically. “no, This Is Exactly Where We Wanted To End Up.