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When we lock things away, he said with conviction, we're really imprisoning ourselves.

Gordon Korman

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Gordon Korman
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: October 23
Author
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Montreal
Quebec
Lock
Locks
Conviction
Away
Really
Things
Imprisoning

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Don't think of it as losing a boyfriend. Think of it as gaining a stalker. -Dan Cahill
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Nellie's brow furrowed. The great Mr. Hip-Hop Mogul standing in line with the common peasants? How do you figure that? Dan grinned. I'm starting to dig this 'no cars' thing. It's a great equalizer.
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Be the Ambulance. Make toast.
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The thing about a cavity search is this: it has nothing to do with the dentist.
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They crested a rise, and there it was, in the hollow between rolling hills—a low, square building, ghostly gray in the moonlight. Is that it? asked Hamilton. It probably isn't the local opera house, groaned Ian.
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Slime him, sis, Dan urged, Make him a redcoat.
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We don't have to love it. We just have to steal it.
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Dan instantly recognized the angry scratch that stretched from the corner of Ian's eye all the way along the olive skin to his chin. Have you been messing with Saladin? No. Saladin has been messing with me, Ian shot back. He isn't big on Lucians, Dan explained. Animals are really good judges of character.
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Ask me. I'm a cow expert.
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Who's that new guy with the snooty accent who came out and talked to the police? Evan persisted. He looks like some kind of male model. That's just my cousin Ian, Amy explained. Not much of a family resemblance, Evan noted sourly. He's like a twenty-fifth cousin, ten times removed. Evan was not satisfied.
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Ian Kabra rolled up his window. My god, what's that smell? Behind the wheel, Sinead laughed. It's called fresh air. Growing up in London, you've probably never breathed it before. And I hope I never breathe it again.
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Where's Amy? Ian put in. Will you please get her to call that Evan character? He rings here twenty times a day. He's either the most mule-headed person who ever lived, or he really likes your sister. She has to have mercy on him–on all of us!
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Art theft gave a guy an appetite.
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Free food! mumbled Hamilton, his mouth full. No wonder you're rich. You don't have to pay for anything. Since when is it free? Jonah demanded. If I don't leave a big tip, it'll be all over Europe that the Wiz is a cheapskate! They'll seat me behind the sound-man from the penguin movie at the Oscars!
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They've got these things called lockers, I raved on. The Halls are lined with them. And you won't believe what they're for! They're for locking stuff away-so other people won't steal it! Why can't everyone share? ~ Cap
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No fair! Those guys ripped off what we rightfully stole!
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Dan was suspicious. How did he find out where we were staying? Amy frowned. I think that's the message inside the message. He wants us to know that he has a long reach–that's he's rich and powerful. Like we'll see his giant mansion and assume he works at Burger King, scoffed Dan.
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If the cake fits, eat it!
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Jonah spoke what everyone was thinking. Wouldn't it be Twilight Zone if the door was open, too? Hamilton tried the knob. It didn't budge. Ian stepped forward and examined the lock. Natalie's diary has better security than this. He produced a credit card and slipped it between the latch and the jamb. There was a click, and the door swung wi
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Amy hugged Sinead, and Dan scratched Saladin. Later, Saladin. Take it easy on Kabra. On second thought, don't.
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