Why, I’ll bet my uncle Davey could take you out in the first round, ya macaroon.
Which isn’t, like, as bad as it sounds, because the general public kind of sucks ass.
When your best friend is the son of God, you get tired of losing every argument.
What is character, if not a man's measure of himself against his friends and enemies?
We'll help, said one boy, his finger far enough up his nose to tickle a memory nesting in his frontal lobe.
War is the lifeblood of this merchant republic.
Treat a whore like a lady and a lady like a whore and even a great stumbling dolt like yourself shall sail on the slippery seas of passion.
The snail, presumably, to bolster the self-esteem of the turtles: You think we’re slow? Look at that guy. To shore up the snail’s morale in the same way, there was a rock. Everyone is happier if they...
The medium obscured the message.
That’s it? Joshua asked, as he hopped off his post and winced upon landing. Why did we set up twenty posts if we were only going to use three? Why were you thinking of twenty when you can only stand o...
Steady and righteous we may be, my friend, but without courage to risk ourselves for our brother, we are but politicians—blustering whores to rhetoric.
Sometimes this high-tech world calls for low-tech solutions.
She looked at him—those wide blue eyes—with sort of an odd, glazed look. Not with the adoration or wonder that you might expect, more like she’d been drinking and would be leaving as soon as she found...
Oh, goddamn, said Minty Fresh (damn on the downbeat, with pain and sustain). Goddamn, my hood and grille are all fucked up. Goddamn. I will tolerate the rising of darkness to cover the world, but you...
Love is not something you think about, it is a state in which you dwell.
LIke many artists, Estelle lived in an atmosphere of chaotic funk, taken by observers to be artistic charm, but in fact no more than a civilized way of dealing with the relative poverty and uncertaint...
Josh se alejó despacio, más o menos en dirección a aquella montaña. El monte Tabor, creo que era. La señora Zebedeo se puso a perseguir a sus hijos como quien persigue pollos
I’m more visual than verbal, really. The painting and so forth.
I don't know,' Charlie said. 'Have you gotten a good look at them? I mean, they got the badonkadonk out back and some fine bajoopbadangs up front, know what I'm sayin', dog? Buss a rock wid a playa?'...
Hope is merely another face of desire. And desire is a motherfucker.