When God wanted a city levelled, or all the first-born slaughtered in one night, he sent an angel.

Though I often run out of courage and good sense, stubbornness keeps me going.

I didn't know if I still had it in me to be really dangerous, but I thought so. It's like knocking someone off a bike with a baseball bat; you never really lose the knack.

No one likes to admit that in the end we all die by inches, gradually losing all the defining visual characteristics that make us us

Oh God, it's her, run!

The cream-tiled walls were spattered here and there with old dried bloodstains, deep gouges that might have been clawmarks, and all kinds of graffiti. As usual, someone had spelt Cthulhu wrongly.

Sometimes humour is all we have to say the things that can't be said.