When I was sixteen I went to a bookstore in my hometown. It was the first time I was alloed to drive my Dad's car by myself. I had just finished my sophomore year in high school. Near the end of the school year my English teacher gave me a copy of Cyrano de Bergerac to read. I went to the bookstore to find something equally inspiring.

I read the blurb on the back of a paperback novel and was compelled to buy it.

The title was "We the Living" by Ayn Rand.

As soon as I finished We The Living I returned to the bookstore and read the blub on the back of another novel. I was compelled to buy it as well.

The title was "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand.

This scenario would occur a third time when I read the blurb on the back of "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand.