“oil paints...the look of licked lips.”

“The sky darkens from ultramarine to indigo. God bless the namers of oil paints and high-class women’s underwear, Snowman thinks. Rose-Petal Pink, Crimson Lake, Sheer Mist, Burnt Umber, Ripe Plum, Indigo, Ultramarine – they’re fantasies in themselves, such words and phrases. It’s comforting to remember that Homo sapiens sapiens was once so ingenious with language, and not only with language. Ingenious in every direction at once.”

“In ten years, you'll be on a stamp /where anyone at all can lick you.”

“I did not know how to paint or even what to paint, but I knew I had to begin.”

“To be rendered unconscious; to lie exposed, without shame, at the mercy of others; to be touched, incised, plundered, remade - this is what they are thinking of when they look at him, with their widening eyes and slightly parted lips.”

“Don’t interfere with false gods, you’ll get the gold paint all over your hands.”

“The heart with letters on it shining like a light bulb through the trim hole painted in the chest, art history.”