Look at that by - (best sales books of all time .txt) 📕

to me, doesn’t touch me, looks down on me, calls me names ? Panourgias, on the other hand, keeps me company, pampers me, spoils me. He is my best friend who whispers jokes in my ear during lessons. I understand his every word, his every phrase, how do I explain it? He must have, as a reader of garrulous and predictable books, lived through some traumat-ic experiences, from which he swore to spare his fu-ture readers. Here’s a writer I’d love to meet, by God! Sadly, though, he has stubbornly withdrawn himself from his fans in this excruciating hide-and-seek, and he doesn’t seem to want to come out from hiding de-spite the Marco Polo we yell to him. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. I’m definitely curious to see what he looks like, since there isn’t a single picture of him anywhere. Why is he so secretive? I don’t get it, what does he have to hide, who’s chasing him? He needs to finally assume the responsibility for his actions. Why doesn’t he?”

“Maybe he’s ashamed of his writing, afraid that it will expose him, revealing an image of him that that has nothing to do with the artificial one he tries to project outwardly?”

“If that’s the case, then too bad for him. Because if there’s an image of him that wouldn’t sit well with