I wanted to be an artist. I was studying art. I wanted to be a great painter. When I went into the Navy, there wasn't much to draw at sea. So I began writing, and I began reading a lot.

The world is made of stairs, and there are those who go up and those who go down.

It seemed to me... that the only valid people to deal with crime were cops, and I would like to make the lead character, rather than a single person, a squad of cops.

Depending on what I'm working on, I come to the writing desk with entirely different mindsets. When I change form one to the other, it's as if another writer is on the scene.

I try to keep all my novels in print. Sometimes publishers don't agree with me as to their worth.

I've never been a cop nor hope to be a cop, thanks.

Its a matter of style. The Evan Hunter style and the Ed McBain style are very, very different.

Changing writing styles is like an actor taking on a different part.

Readers are what it's all about, aren't they? If not, why am I writing?

I know that all cops are not sterling characters. But you have to have someone to root for. I balance it with rotten cops who will take a bribe, who will beat somebody up.

We need leaders who can reflect theologically and help develop more robust thinking that understands how context affects our understanding of God, humankind, the fall, and redemption.

The past does not define me, it ignites me. The past is not a piece of me, it has placed me.

Think about someone, such as a teacher who may have inspired you. Their care and love must have shone through. That is the reason to follow those who set a good example of life.

My workout regimen at the moment is nonexistent. I wake up in the morning and brush my teeth. My toothbrush and deodorant are my only dumbbells. That's about it.

You do anything long enough to escape the habit of living until the escape becomes the habit.

When a woman puts up her fists to a man she is putting herself in the only posture in which he is not afraid of her.

I believe miracles are like seeds. When planted and watered by our attention and appreciation, they bloom.

Oh, that the wise from their bright minds would kindle Such lamps within the dome of this dim world That the pale name of priest might shrink and dwindle Into the Hell from which it first was furled.

Prosperity is a great teacher; adversity is a greater. Possession pampers the mind; privation trains and strengthens it.

Well, it's a Bloody Mary morning, my baby left without warning.