The single raindrop never feels responsible for the flood.

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow pizza.

Nobody got murdered before lunch. But nobody. People weren't up to it. You needed a good lunch to get both the blood-sugar and blood-lust levels up.

He felt like an old sponge steeped in paraffin and left in the sun to dry.

The moment at which two people, approaching from opposite ends of a long passageway, recognize each other and immediately pretend they haven t. This is to avoid the ghastly embarrassment of having to continue recognizing each other the whole length of the corridor.

Nothing travels faster than the speed of light, with the possible exception of bad news, which obeys its own special laws.

A beach house isn't just real estate. It's a state of mind.