Each life makes its own immitation of immortality.

It's funny how close the past is, sometimes. Sometimes it seems as if you could almost reach out and touch it. Only who really wants to?

Money talks, bullshit walks.

I've met talespinners before, Jake, and they're all cut more or less from the same cloth. They tell tales because they're afraid of life.

He did it (listened) as the world's most charming and magnetic people do, always asking the right question at the right time, never fidgeting or taking his eyes from the speaker's face, making the other guy feel like the most knowledgeable, brilliant, and intellectually savvy person on the planet.

And didn't they say that, although curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought the beast back?

and the rain went rollin down the windowpanes, and the shadows wiggled n' squiggled on her check and forehead like black veins.