There’s the opposite of love at first sight. There are people walking the earth that the moment you meet them, you want to punch them and keep punching them.
They can talk shit about each other behind the others' backs, but when it comes down to it, money is the one true race and everyone down here is the color of greenbacks and as tall as mountains.
They were the understanding eyes of kindly folk who burned witches alive to save their souls.
They’re a year closer and I’m on the street like a goddamn lost dog wondering if I’ll ever find my way back home.
Thievery pays for the tools, and the work shows me the mind of God. Stealing is a lot like alchemy, you know. In each, we each try to find what is beautiful and hidden and make it ours.
This fire is a big deal. A huge deal. A giant, flaming, goddamn, piece-of-shit, agonizing, I-want-to-rip-my-own-head-off deal.
This is for you, Cherie. I can’t help but smile when I see her. This is a taste of the old Bamboo House of Dolls. A clueless tourist slumming in a weirdo bar and he picks up a pretty young thing. Only...
This is my domain. What exists here without knowledge exists here in defiance. That doesn’t even make sense. He’s calling them liars, says Daja. I look at her. Again I ask: What does any of this have...
Those pricks down the hall, flying high above it all on this hillside, they’re the kind of people whose faces end up on money or a new library so that kids will have a new place to hang out while real...
To the dead. Let’s think of them always, but not join them too soon.
Traven stares at Cherry grinding away on my crotch. He looks like the most puzzled holy man since Jesus saw Judas order fajitas at the Last Supper.
Traven walks away as a stream of havoc members come by to pat me on the back, punch my arm, and shake my hand. I smile and nod like it’s the Oscars and I just won Best Supporting Asshole.
Twenty percent? What am I, your waiter? I got you five vampires, not a BLT.
Up ahead, Donut Universe shines like the Virgin Mary doing barrel rolls over Lourdes, so I head over.
Vices shouldn't be safe. They're what remind us we're alive and mortal.
We have these meetings every couple of days. We’re rebuilding Hell after it went up in flames like a flash-paper bikini when the original Lucifer, the real Lucifer, blew out of town after sticking me...
We nod and grunt grudging affirmatives.
Wells points at me like P. T. Barnum showing off the dog-faced boy to the masses.
Were those statues there before? Buer waves his little cuttlefish tentacles and moves his finger across the paper. They’re new. A different icon for each of the Seven Noble Virtues. He’s not lying. Th...
We’re in front of a run-down little motel, the kind you see along Route 66, but not the quaint kind you stay in. It’s more like the ones where you check in for an hour and come out with crabs or what...
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