If I take refuge in ambiguity, I assure you that it's quite conscious.
He was like an undead boomerang. A zomberang.
Don't know about my knives, but my gun's made of pain.
Instinct told me it was dangerous. I could handle dangerous. Dangerous and me went back a long way. We did lunch when dangerous was in town.
…I noticed you don’t have any self-defense training…” “…I can handle myself just fine. ” She stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, “In the very short time I’ve known you, you have been chased, shot, robbed, stabbed, drugged, and attacked by magic. ” “I’m still breathing, aren’t I?
For a brief, weird minute I felt like Dorothy in Oz, walking down the street with Terric the doubtful, Shame the brainless, and heartless Zay.
I think you’re possessed. ” “Old news. ” “Huh. Anyone I know?” “My dad. It’s a family issue I’m working on.
All I care about these days is painting — photography has never been more than a way into painting, a sort of instant drawing.
Nothing is more characteristically juvenile than contempt for juvenility. . . youth's characteristic chronological snobbery.
Whoever you support, you've got that blood in your veins
We reveal something of our nature when we sing, something that can be disguised in our speaking voice.