And as always seems to happen when I have reached the point where I am ready to take decisive action, everything began to happen at once.

It took me a moment. I blinked, and suddenly it swam into focus and I had to frown very hard to keep myself from giggling out loud like the schoolgirl Deb had accused me of being. Because he had arranged the arms and legs in letters, and the letters spelled out a single small word: BOO. The three torsos were carefully arranged below the BOO in a quarter-circle, making a cute little Halloween smile. What a scamp.

I mean, really: what kind of person could possibly dislike me?

What do you want a clock for?” “To find out what time it is,” I said. “I think that’s the usual purpose.

It really is better to be lucky than to be good.

Killing makes me feel good.

...being torn apart by far too many loyalties that could not possibly live together in the same brain.