The Portuguese man-of-war,” Sayle continued. He had a heavy accent brought with him from the Cairo marketplace. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” “I wouldn’t keep one as a pet,” Alex said. “I.
It shouldn’t be too hard to spot,” Daniels said. “It’s bloody huge. And if it goes bang, you’ll hear it ten miles away.
Everything had been beaten down and baked by the sun.
From the moment I was able to make my own decisions, I became what has come to be called a vegetarian – a word that originated here in England, you might like to know.
You don’t want to be hanging around this village. You don’t want to be anywhere near here. Do you understand me? I shouldn’t be talking to you like this. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get away. You’ll go as far away as you can and you won’t come back.
Pack your mother and kiss your clothes goodbye. No!” He banged his head against the table. “Kiss your mother and pack your clothes. Your train leaves at one.
Fiction merely allows us a glimpse of the alternative.
You never realise how fragile everything is until it breaks. And that day it was all smashed.
I’ve met police dogs with more intelligence than those two. You could tell them everything we’ve done, down to the last word, and they’d still end up running around in a circle, sniffing each other’s arses.
The world was healing itself.
You see what I mean?” Jerry said. Tom had his back to the buildings. He was looking at the sea. “Anyone fancy a swim?” he asked. “Yeah.” Jerry nodded slowly. “You bring any trunks?” “No.” “It doesn’t matter. We can swim in our underpants.” “I’m not wearing underpants.” Jerry glanced at his brother. “Charming!
I have spoken to you before of the nature of human wickedness, my friend. How it is the small lies and evasions which nobody sees or detects but which can come together and smother you like the fumes in a house fire.
For him, politeness was a surgical mask, something he slipped on before he took out his scalpel.
Routine was going to kill Michael J. Roscoe and this was the day death had chosen to come calling. Of.
I was asleep, of course, and dreaming, but I remember wondering how he had managed to enter my world before the thought occurred to me that maybe it was I who had entered his.
He wasn’t being deliberately offensive. It was just that offensive was his default mode.
One car behind him. Two.
Atticus Pund did not reply but he knew from his experience that murderers could, indeed, smile and make pleasant conversation one minute and strike violently the next. His experiences during the war had also taught him much about what he called the institutionalisation of murder; how, if you surrounded murder with enough forms and procedures, if you could convince yourself that it was an absolute necessity, then ultimately it would not be murder at all.
Life may imitate art – but it usually falls short of it.
Like many wealthy Americans, he was imbued with a sense of civic responsibility.