He inched his way up the corridor as if he would rather be yarding his way down it, which was true.

Even the evil-looking bird perched on a rod in the bar had stopped screeching out the names and addresses of local contract killers, which was a service it provided for free.

I love to keep poking and prodding at it. I’ve thought about it so much over the years that that fascination is bound to spill over into my writing.

The single raindrop never feels responsible for the flood.

Beppu (n.) The triumphant slamming shut of a book after reading the final page.

Solutions nearly always come from the direction you least expect, which means there's no point trying to look in that direction because it won't be coming from there.

For as long as he could remember, he’d suffered from a vague nagging feeling of being not all there.