There's also a lot of gritty Americana type of bands. I actually have a lot of Britpop on my iPod, too.

The city might be savage, stray dogs might share the streets with grimy urchins whose blank eyes reflected the knowledge that they might soon be covered over, blinded forever, by the same two pennies just begged from some gentleman, and no one in the fuming, fulminous boulevards of trade might know who actually ran Ambergris-or, if anyone ran it at all, but, like a renegade clock, it ran on and wound itself heedless, empowered by the insane weight of its own inertia, the weight of its own citizenry.

Some questions will ruin you if you are denied the answer long enough.

Imbuing fiction with a life that extends beyond the last word is in some ways the goal: the ending that goes beyond the ending in the reader's mind, so invested are they in the story.

Silence creates it's own violence.

You can either waste time worrying about a death that might not come or concentrate on what’s left to you.

That's how the madness of the world tries to colonize you: from the outside in, forcing you to live in its reality.