“Mr Warty’s face swelled up like a puffer fish—all his whiskers standing straight out like poison spikes.”

“The image of Mac standing in front of a selection of penises, like a witness picking a criminal out of a line-up, was more than Rachel could bear with a straight face.”

“It was the blue of the sky that caught him first: a rapturous, painfully pure spike of color that hooked his eyes like fish and reeled them upward into the heights.”

“Yeah? What'd you name all those cats?"Death, Famine, Pestilence, War, and Mr. Whiskers."You named your cats after the riders of the apocal--wait. Mr. Whiskers?"Well, there are only four horsemen.”

“The faces he woke up with in the worlds hotels were like God's own hood ornaments. Women's sleeping faces, identical and alone, naked, aimed straight out to the void.”

“It's one thing to face great odds, but even the smallest struggle, if undertaken without hope, looms and swells with the fatal poisons of despair.”