Kaye: You know what the sun looks like? Janet: No, What? Kaye: Like he slit his wrists in a bathtub and the blood is all over the water. Janet: That's gross, Kaye. Kaye: And the moon is just watching. She's just watching him die. She must have driven him to it.

It’s hard to come up with a scheme to thwart some other scheme you don’t even know about.

He runs to the sink to spit it out. I grin. There’s nothing quite as funny as someone else’s misery.

I need your help," says the tiny figure. Her voice is sad and soft and sounds like Lila's, but with an odd accent that might just be how cats sound when they talk.

Jones looks like he wants to slug me, which is only subtly different from his usual way of looking at me like I'm a slug.

The problem with cell phones is that you can’t slam them down into a cradle when you hang up. Your only option is to throw them, and if you do, they just skitter across the floor and crack their case. It’s not satisfying at all. I close my eyes and bend down to pick up the pieces.

Every plan is a house of cards.