When I read, I'm either reading to learn, or I'm reading to switch off.

We write dust epitaphs for our vanquished enemies and watch them blow away in the desert wind.

Life is exponential. Two becomes four, becomes ten thousand, becomes a plague.

For pleasure, I'll read military sf, or Elmore Leonard capers, anything that's fast and fun. Otherwise, I mostly pick at books, without any clear focus.

They’d blame a castoff just for breathing. You could be good as gold and they’d still blame you.

It’s human nature to tear one another apart. Be glad you come from such a successful line of killers.

No one else noticed, or cared. It was just something they did. Taking other people’s livestock. Other people’s lives. She watched the soldiers, hating them. They were different in so many ways, white and black, yellow and brown, skinny, short, tall, small, but they were all the same. Didn’t matter if they wore finger-bone necklaces, or baby teeth on bracelets, or tattoos on their chests to ward off bullets. In the end, they were all mangled with battle scars and their eyes were all dead.