I feel like everybody's doing this, but I will be short and sweet. He was a great writer, and a great man. Even his lesser novels offered something of worth. But I can't get away from his experiences in Dresden, which informed his writing to its core, much like it did for Sam Fuller.
Few artistic ideas have hit me as hard as Kilgore Trout, in the midst of Breakfast of Champions, realizing that he was just smart enough to realize he was fictional.
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He will try to dizzy you with his intellect, but - honestly - at worst you'll get mildly nauseous.
