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

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

I like fast plots with things that explode.

Sex and hypocrisy. They go together like coffee and cream.

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

Maybe because we're photosynthesizing we'll do more work outside. So our laptops will have to get rid of these damn glossy screens that have become so popular. And then we'll sit around outside, sucking up sun, getting fat and green, and surfing the net.

Take three different Thai writers and ask them to extrapolate their county's future, and one hopes that you'll get three very different - but all deeply honest - versions.