Kathy

“My monk had to be a man of wide worldly experience and an inexhaustible fund of resigned tolerance for the human condition. His crusading and seafaring past, with all its enthusiasms and disillusionments, was referred to from the beginning. Only later did readers begin to wonder and ask about his former roving life, and how and why he became a monk. For reasons of continuity I did not wish to go back in time and write a book about his crusading days. Whatever else may be true of it, the entire sequence of novels proceeds steadily season by season, year by year, in a progressive tension which I did not want to break. But when I had the opportunity to cast a glance behind by way of a short story, to shed light on his vocation, I was glad to use it. So here he is, not a convert, for this is not a conversion. In an age of relatively uncomplicated faith, not yet obsessed and tormented by cantankerous schisms, sects and politicians, Cadfael has always been an unquestioning believer. What happens to him on the road to Woodstock is simply the acceptance of a revelation from within that the life he has lived to date, active, mobile and often violent, has reached its natural end, and he is confronted by a new need and a different challenge.”
― Ellis Peters, A Rare Benedictine: The Advent of Brother Cadfael

“It couldn’t have been easy to walk through Sauchiehall Street after closing on a Saturday with some mouthy wee bam shouting, “Fuck me, is that no’ her out of Scooby-Doo?” at you at the top of his lungs.”
― J.D. Kirk, A Litter of Bones

“Whoever has the world’s plenty and sees a brother in need but shuts up his bowels of compassion from him, how can the love of God be within him?’ translated Vermeer, fairly loosely. ‘Indeed, Father.”
― Graham Brack, Death in Delft

“I swear it only hit me then, with full conscious force, who the real villains of this piece had been from start to finish…those lying, cancerous dogs of the mainstream media!”
― Paul Christensen