Boredom can be a lethal thing on a small island.

Don’t be so hard on yourself, You’re doing the same thing, trying to reconcile all the moms that Mom ever was – The one you wanted, the one she was when you needed her and...

If there was anything I learned from John the Baptist, it was that the sooner you confess a mistake, the quicker you can get on to making new and better mistakes.

Why write a song when no one can play the notes or understand the lyrics?

I’m beginning to wonder,” said Kent, sitting down now on an overturned wooden tub. “Who do I serve? Why am I here?”You are here, because, in the expanding ethical ambiguity of our situation, you are...

Don’t be ridiculous, Charlie, people love the parents who beat their kids in department stores. It’s the ones who just let their kids wreak havoc that everybody hates.

I’ve seen more intelligence in the crotch lice of harem whores.

Nobody’s perfect. Well, there was this one guy, but we killed him….

One day I was telling him that I thought that cars had replaced guns as phallic symbols for American men, and I thought it was interesting that he had one that was so small and...

Next out of the hall came the sisters and their husbands. Before I could say anything, the captain had clamped his hand over my mouth and was lifting me off my feet as I kicked....

That’s the scary thing about hope,” she said. “If you let it go too long it turns into faith.

Does the work get easier once you know what you are doing?””Your lungs grow thick with stone dust and your eyes bleary from the sun and fragments thrown up by the chisel. You pour your...

It was the sound of a thousand hungry children crying, ten thousand widows tearing their hair over their husband’s graves, a chorus of angels singing the last dirge on the day of God’s death.

In business, as in politics, the public is ever so tolerant of those who slime.

But she’s a redhead, so she’s probably evil, even at her tender age.””I thought you liked redheads.””I do. What’s your point?

My children are monsters, Kiro thought. And I am responsible. Perhaps if I had read them the haikus of Basho when they were little instead of that American manifesto of high-pressure sales, Green Eggs and...

Canada is a myth people made up to entertain children, like the Tooth Fairy. There’s no such place.

The prospect of change is a many-fanged beast, my dear.

She doesn’t understand that a writer is a special creature–that I’m different from everyone else. I’m not saying I’m superior to other people, just more sensitive, I guess.

A hundred brilliant witticisms died suffocating on the captain’s heavy glove. Thus muted, I pumped my codpiece at the duke and tried to force a fart, but my bum tumpet could find no note.

Hope is bulletproof, truth just hard to hit

If they’d been dogs, they would have all been in the yard eating grass and trying to yak up whatever was making them feel so lousy. Not a bone gnawed, not a ball chased-all tails...

Nothing evokes the prurient like puritanism.

The Painting is not shit,’ said Lucien.’I know,’ said Henri. ‘That was just part of the subterfuge. I am of royal lineage; subterfuge is one of the many talents we carry in our blood, along...

Warning from the author: “if you’re buying this book as a gift for your grandma or a kid, you should be aware that it contains cuss-words as well as tasteful depictions of cannibalism and people...

Rivera rubbed his temples. “Satan told you to do it?” he said wearily.”No.””Elvis?””I told you, it’s supernatural.

Christmas crept into Pine Cove like a creeping Christmas thing: dragging garland, ribbon, and sleigh bells, oozing eggnog, reeking of pine, and threatening festive doom like a cold sore under the mistletoe.

…as if someone had thrown a hand grenade into the middle of a teddy bear orgy and the only survivors had had their fur blown off.

You sure about this writer thing son?

Advice, then, young yeoman: When referring to the king’s middle daughter, state that she is fair, speculate that she is pious, but unless you’d like to spend your watch looking for the box where your...

Routine feeds the illusion of safety…

You cannot believe what you do not believe, Rumi siad. I am an Untouchable because my karma dictates it.

Holy ripened fuckcheese!

Love: the sickest of Irony’s sick jokes. The place where logic and order go to die.

‘Paint only what you see,’ his hero Millet had admonished.’Imagination is a burden to a painter,’ Auguste Renoir had told him. ‘Painters are craftsmen, not storytellers. Paint what you see.’Ah, but what they hadn’t said,...

Pondering is a little like considering and a little like thinking, but looser. To ponder, one must let the facts roll around the rim of the mind’s roulette wheel, coming to settle in whichever slot...

An original thought would crack your feeble skull like a thunderbolt, you craven vulture.

Joshua’s ministry was three years of preaching, sometimes three times a day, and although there were some high and low points, I could never remember the sermons word for word, but here’s the gist of...

I’m feeling full of tiny princes, bustling to get out into the world and start plotting against one another.

Eu sonho com sangue, com uma solidão tão vazia que nem o eco sobreviveria nela e acordo a gritar, ensopado no meu próprio suor, e mesmo depois de acordar a sensação solidão mantém-se durante algum...

I’ll not have an exchange with an impudent fool.” [Oswald]He’s not impudent,” said Jones [the puppet]. “With proper inspiration, the lad sports a woody as stout as a mooring pin. Ask your lady.”I nodded in...

Mr. Asher, you can resist who you are for only so long. Finally, you just decide to go with fate.

We were seekers. You are that which is sought, Joshua. You are the source. The end is divinity, in the beginning is the word. You are the word.

You know what? You know what? You know what?’ I was waving my finger under her nose. ‘You scratched the Son of God. That’s your ass, that’s what.

Love needs room to grow. Like a rose. Or a tumor.

Of course they won’t bloody remember, they’ll be dead.’ Then she called him a name in a dead language that translated, roughly, to ‘poop on a stick,’ but sounded more succinct, like this: ‘Of course...

Stephenie Meyer: Her vampires are sparkly, which I think we can all agree is wrong.

That was supposed to be the whole purpose of the Internet, you know. To share scientific information.””Not a Viagra- and porn-delivery system?

Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry, you can’t have a baby brother, because that would mean that Daddy had sex, and that’s never going to happen again.

I tried cutting myself to express my heartbreak over Tommy (Lord Flood) rejecting me, but OMFG it hurts like flaming fuck.