Novel & Cerita As A Man Thinketh Book Review

They thought they were God's gift to mankind, rather womankind and treated woman like commodities. And this man was no different. Why am I even thinking about him? I drove into the evening traffic trying to focus on my driving and not at the image of the drop dead gorgeous man who I had an unfortunate encounter with today. &&&

But its good to be back writing, not on a sheet of paper with a jerky confused finger, but self purblishing, finally. I know now that its not about life. I don't think that the best man should want it, I think he should want a little more--immortality. Books might never stop to exist, but I can. Perharps I may attain it, perharps I may not. I will write better works (promise), this one is just the work of my defiance, wonder on human sexuality, cupped with my insecurities. I think I've said as much as I can, it should be treason to forget people or things you love, even after they're no more--this is a recapture of mine.

Who had sat in this library alone and pressed a pen to the margins of a law book and turned someone else's words into his own philosophy. I thought about that man standing in the rain in an alley offering his coat to a boy who had just tried to steal bread. I thought about that man saying one word in a corridor and trusting me to know what to do with it. Ryan Thompson was not simple. I had known that from the beginning. But knowing it and understanding it were different things. The library was making me understand it in a way that the guards and the gates and the cold authority of his voice never quite had. A dangerous man can be survived.

I heard him end the quiet, just now acknowledging how I lost myself in thinking. I lifted my head and stared at his scrutinizing look, and allowed my eyes to fall onto the book again before replying, "Certainly not, this book has it all: class conflict, politics, religion, women’s rights, and passion. It makes you think, it makes you reflect on what was and it makes you ponder how we got from one point to another." I expressed it without holding back. I found it refreshing to pour my mind out to someone who doesn't totally detest me.

' the man thought. "You're a novelist?"

Xermia recognized the cover of the book and he whispered to Thomas and Sigrid. “Are you seeing what I am seeing?” “What is it?” “If I am not mistaken that is the Covenant book!” Thomas interrupted the man’s page flipping, “I know that book! Where did you get it?” “Oh this book, I got it from a far away place called shut up and mind your business!” The man’s arrogance was getting to Thomas, he was an insult away from a complete breakdown. “Oh here we go! Sorry to keep you waiting.” His index finger surfed across the page as he mumbled the words written. He looked up at the ceiling, repeatedly reciting the incarnation in order to cram it.

"Hey, what book is this?" The man who was focusing with the microscope lens finally lifted his face, "Isn't there a title there?" "Yeah I know, but about what? I've never heard of Aima before. Is this a book about sexuality? A porn book?" asked Gail happily. This man rolled his eyes, "Seriously, if you are looking for a book like that you can find it at Night Flowers," he said. "Then?" The old man straightened his stiff body then pushed his wheelchair and turned to face Gail. "This is a book about a lost history," he said.

Ashton came around the table and joined her at the shelf, pulling the volume out. "Two things lead me to that conclusion. Using initials is a well-known way of hiding one's gender, but more importantly, the phrasing and the characters are telling. They seem, well, far too accurate in depicting the feminine mind. No man could ever possess that much insight. It would surprise me very much if it weren't a woman. Here, you must give it a try." He handed her the book, and she didn't refuse it. If she was to remain here a week, she would enjoy something to read.

I even found the karma sutra amongst what I can only classify as the ‘self help’ section, opening it and then quickly closing it in case Enzo or his mother entered the room. A large book at the end of the shelf entitled “The Power and Responsibility of Men” caught my eye. It seemed to be more weathered than the rest of the books, but I didn't get why. “Who would be drawn to a book like that?” I asked myself, pulling it from the shelf.