I listened to the wind bury winter; and when I tasted his grace, his grace had no name; only, night became something else in his presence, as though darkness had a soul, here, swaying to heartbeats roaring.

Miracles pass and I see. Great wonders speak and I listen.

Moscow was, as some said, the most beautiful mistress a man could ever want, but never cross her: like any good woman, she might just cut off your balls for the hell of it.

How's his appendix?""Like crap. They almost didn't catch it in time, and he's still doing the ass-plant in a hospital bed, beingdoted on by an army of hot nurses. Makes me sick.""Maybeyou should rupture something.""Any more of these stories out of you and I just might.

Expect the unexpected, my mother once said. Because the unexpected most certainly will be expecting you.

I've got a black-belt in crazy, and I know where you live.

Religion was no cure for dysfunction.