"You know, telling someone they look tired is just a nice way of saying they look like shit."
“I think it’s rather brazen of you, sir, to stride around town like nothing happened.”
“I’ll endeavor to stride around town with more gravity in the future. If you’ll excuse me.”
"An' then I said, 'You shall live no longer, foul dragon!' An' I stabbed my sword through his...err..."
The captain put his fingers on his temples, straining to remember the rest of his story.
...
He took his fingers away, his face brightening. "Tail! I stabbed it through its tail, which killed it right then an' there," he laughed.
"Azreth, Arzeth, Bazarth, does it matter? You may have the ownership of the Crusader, but I'M still the captain."
What a shameless woman she had been taking the virginity of a superhuman right on her desk.
I may elaborate on it in another sentence or two. But for now I just like it simple.Inside it smelled like...baby.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “The voice just won’t shut up.”
“The voice?” Dr. Laser says, her eyes stretching wide. “Tom, do you hear voices?”
“YOU LITTLE SHIT, NOW WE’RE FUCKED!”
Nick was indestructible. I was pretty sure if the Earth was decimated by a nuclear holocaust, the only things that would survive would be cockroaches, Twinkies and Nick Murphy.
This amuses me more than it probably should:
Tom hears voices in his head, written in italics.
"So what do you think, little one? Should we eat him or should we let him live this time?"
"Cannibalism is wrong, Mr. Wilson."
"Bah! That's not what you said yesterday."
“What?” I cry, putting my face in my hands. “Fuck, Donnie, do you know what I was dreaming about?”
“Hot orgies with dozens of Sarah clones?”
“So why’d you wake me?”
The first exhibit they visited in this two-story museum was the kitchen, where dirty dishes littered the sink and a leaking carton of spoiled, gooey milk sat on the counter in a puddle of its own curdling excrement.
Thistlewood hung up, and studied Naomi until she had to fight the urge to draw her cardigan tight around herself. “Hungry, Ms. Bradleigh?”
“Lunch would be pleasant, Inspector. I would also like to speak to my attorney.”
“Why do you keep mentioning your attorney? Do you have something to hide?”
“From you, sir, I have everything to hide.”
David unclenched his fist. He nodded at the one who had been shot in the back and finished off at close range. “You didn’t have to kill him. He was running, begging, scared, you sick fuck.”
“First of all, you’re welcome.” Henderson removed from his mouth the blade of grass he was chewing on and eyed David with total apathy. “Second, you got any other complaints? I’d love to know. Really, honest critique is how I get better at my job.”
I expected a commonality, a camaraderie in the communion of the artificial with the whole. There was none. For them the artificial occupied a part of the totality of the whole, whereas my entire totality was wholly artificial.

Better to be haunted by the dead than the living. The dead are easily dealt with; the living tend to keep coming back.
