One hour of life, crowded to the full with glorious action, and filled with noble risks, is worth whole years of those mean observances of paltry decorum

I nod in the darkness. He embraces me and before long he's fast asleep, a man with clear consiense and an open heart. I stay awake, listening to his breath and thinking of the webs we weave.

People won't admit it, they're too busy grabbing to see that the lights have fused. They can't see the darkness and the spider-face beyond and the great web of it all. That there's always this if you scratch at the surface of happiness and goodness.The black and the black and the black.

There is a cookie trail of all my interests lodged in some digital sphere which will one day consolidate the collected data of six billion souls and vomit out__ don__ know__ersonalized infomercials for deodorant and car wax.

The desperate piercing scream of horror echoed far above the sharpened tops of the trees wrapped in thin obsidian-transparent mist, and I startled jerkily, tripping again, and almost collapsed onto the cold moist ground.

Use your little grey cells mon ami" (Hercule Poirot in 'The Mysterious Affair At Styles')