Niko caught my hand and slapped it lightly down on the bar. “Pistol whipping elderly women isn’t precisely our mission statement, Cal.” I hadn’t been going to pistol-whip her. Yell at her a little more, then pick her up and toss her out into the street. Some risk of a broken hip there, but that wasn’t pistol-whipping… unless she tried to come back in.

You're so very good at that. The temper, the scowl. You must drink shots of testosterone in your morning coffee.

Fall leaves are brilliant with gold and red. You can cup them in your hand and wonder at them, be amazed at their uniqueness and glory. But eventually they are gone, brown, crumbling, scattered on the wind. But the tree remains. The tree is what is important. The tree lives on. That was a difficult knowledge to bear, and an even more difficult life to live. Of course, being the leaf wasn't exactly desirable either.

Home is where the heart is or where you bury the ones you want to eat later.

Funny thing about faith ... it goes a lot faster than it comes.

We all have our security blankets in this world. Some are just sharper than others.

I raised another shot. "That sound you hear is the heads of moral conservatives spontaneously exploding in the distance.