“The doleful, ugly sounds became entangled in his whiskers.”

“He would sit singing, his cheeks turning red above his whiskers; but his voice always came out deep and steady, like the sound of long ago, if long ago could make a sound instead of being forever lost and silent.”

“This is a fierce bad rabbit; look at his savage whiskers, and his claws and his turned-up tail.”

“He had a big head and a face so ugly it became almost fascinating.”

“And so I began to read,' Sorkar said. 'And at first the complete works were like a jungle, the language was quicksand. Metaphors turned beneath my feet and became biting snakes, similes fled from my grasp like frightened deer, taking all meaning with them. All was alien, and amidst the hanging, entangling creepers of this foreign grammar, all sound became a cacophany. I feared for myself, for my health and sanity, but then I thought of my purpose, of where I was and who I was, of pain and I pressed on.”

“Whatever I did, even backed by Sting’s cash and moral support, it turned to shit. I had reached the end of the line. I became a statistic. Jim Berryman, actor, comedian, bookie and lounge-lizard, was on the dole!”