They tugged plans and ambitions out their asses and held tight to the first that didn't smell so strongly of shit.

It's nice to be able to do things for other people, isn't it?

That's why it's fun to talk in the third person sometimes.

Preferring the nausea of the path to its fated and certain ending.

Our town was known for two things--no, three: salted fish, expertly dyed fabrics, and corruption.

Breslin gives me his wise-teacher smile, which is kind and crinkly and would make me feel warm all over if I was dumber than a bag of hair.

If grass is greener on the other side, why wait at this side of the fence?