If the workers took a notion they could stop all speeding trains; every ship upon the ocean they can tie with mighty chains.

Gold don't come off. What's good stays good no matter how much of a beating it takes.

The language of sin was universal, the original Esperanto.

He understood that the ghost existed first and foremost within his own head. That maybe ghosts always haunted minds, not places. If he wanted to take a shot at it, he’d have to turn the barrel against his own temple.

And he paddled away in his douche canoe.

She breathed deeply of the scent of decaying fiction, disintegrating history, and forgotten verse, and she observed for the first time that a room full of books smelled like dessert: a sweet snack made of figs, vanilla, glue, and cleverness.

Well. That's helpful. We'll put an APB out on the Gingerbread Man. I'm not hopeful it'll do us much good, though. Word on the street is you can't catch him.