She had the kind of legs that kept her butt from resting on her shoes – a size-eight dame in a size-six dress and every mug in the joint was rooting for the two sizes to make a break for it as they watched her wiggle in the door and shimmy onto a barstool with her back to the door.
Why are you lying on the floor?” “Solidarity. And we ran out of cognac. This is my preferred out of cognac posture.
He was a LEPER, you idiot! Not a leopard.
Back in the buffalo days, the Cheyenne prophet Sweet Medicine had seen a vision of men with hair on their faces who would come bringing a white sand that was poison to Indians. The prophecy had come true, the white sand was sugar, and Adeline blamed the white man for poisoning her right up to two hundred pounds.
Give in to your passions and they will lead you to the most preposterous conclusions – passions make a fool of reason.
Know what I like about mysteries? They’re mysterious.
He smiled to himself. Through many centuries and many incarnations, he had learned one universal truth: bitches love them some cushions.
Not the scream of a startled little girl, mind you, but a manly scream: the scream of a fellow who has caught his enormous dong in a revolving door while charging.
Take a moment to catch your breath and revel in your rhetorical mastery and achievement.
And that continued for quite a while until the adventurer admitted that it IS an accepted fact among monsters and giants of all stripes that Englishmen are delicious.
Hey, you ever feel like you might just be the construct of an unyielding, all-seeing bureaucracy beyond our perception that is molding humanity to its own will and pleasure?
Congratulations, you have been chosen to act as Death, it’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.
Apologies, one loses perspective after spending a week in a brothel.
Raziel! Go forth into the land and lay waste unto two good-size Wal-Marts, slay until blood doth flow from all bargains and all the buildings are but rubble – and pick up a few Snickers bars for yourself.
You have to reward them when they do what you want. I tried punishing them when they misbehaved, but the hammer seemed to crush their spirit.
Tuck watched the sun bubble into the ocean. Columns of vertical cumulus clouds turned to cones of pink cotton candy, then as the sun became a red wafer on the horizon, they turned candy-apple red, with purple rays reaching out of them like searchlights. The water was neon over wet asphalt, blood-spattered gunmetal – colors from the cover of a detective novel where heroes drink hard and beauty is always treacherous.
Blue is beauty, not truth. “True blue” is a ruse, a rhyme; it’s there, then it’s not. Blue is a deeply sneaky color. Even deep blue is shallow. Blue is glory and power, a wave, a particle, a vibration, a resonance, a spirit, a passion, a memory, a vanity, a metaphor, a dream. Blue is a simile. Blue, she is like a woman.
Maybe life is just easier if you’re a little goofy...
My kingdom for a razor-blade cowcatcher and Cuisinart wheel covers to cut my path through this herd of ignorant peasant meat, she thought. Then: Whoa, I guess I really do need the meds.
What?” he said. “What? What? What?” “Master, you’re walking on the water,” said Peter. “I just ate,” Joshua said. “You can’t go into the water for an hour after you eat. You could get a cramp. What, none of you guys have mothers?