Death has come in the pantry door: stands watching them, iron and patient, with a look that says 'try to tickle me.

We have waged war, or rather let a war be waged, against all of the animals we eat. This war is new and has a name: factory farming.

The true felicity of a lover of books is the luxurious turning of page by page, the surrender, not meanly abject, but deliberate and cautious, with your wits about you, as you deliver yourself into the keeping of the book. This I call reading.

Bean sighed inwardly. It never failed. Whenever he had any conversation with Ender, it turned into an argument.

Written By Orson Scott Card

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