Willie said normal was boring and that I should be grateful that I had a touch of spice. She said no one cared about boring people, and when they died, they were forgotten, like something that slips behind the dresser.

What do you do with all this bank, Josie? Be a lot easier if you just lifted your skirt.” “The only reason I’d lift my skirt is to pull out my pistol and plug you in the head.

I felt as if I were riding a pendulum. Just as I would swing into the abyss of hopelessness, the pendulum would swing back with some small goodness.

We'd been trying to touch the sky from the bottom of the ocean. I realized that if we boosted one another, maybe we'd get a little closer.

I planted a seed of hatred in my heart. I swore it would grow to be a massive tree whose roots would strangle them all.

Some things just won’t go away, no matter how hard you scrub.

Charlie Marlowe never wrote horror, but somehow horror was writing Charlie Marlowe.