The day of battle dawned pink as the fresh-bitten thigh of a maiden.
It is a pain in the ass waiting around for someone to try to kill you.
I enjoy slaughtering beasts, and I think of my relatives constantly.
Collins and Morales represent a segment of society which, if attacked with the weapons society sanctions, one finds buffered by innumerable layers of law, bureaucracy, lies, evasions. They rest secure within their palaces, confident that...
I know, too, that death is the only god who comes when you call.
When you are about to die, a wombat is better than no company at all.
Wheels turning, the motorcycle’s roar grows steady, which, too, is a form of silence.
No word matters. But man forgets reality and remembers words.