“Liberty," boomed Wednesday, as they walked to the car, "is a bitch who must be bedded on a mattress of corpses.”
“We have buried the putrid corpse of liberty”
“I want to sleep in your bed."Her thighs tingled. "You must really like my mattress."He grinned. I never heard it called that, but yeah.”
“I have dreamed of our bed as if it were a shore where we would be washed up, not this striped mattress we must cover with sheets. [from "After an Absence"]”
“We must pose the familiar question about how far our civil liberties have been eroded by the national security state… Somehow it is always a choice between habeas corpus and hundreds of corpses.”
“I don't make sonic booms. I want a whip. I like the idea of walking around making sonic booms everywhere.”