"He looked like he’d taken a long fall a short time ago."
"For Celeste, I knew as surely as our hips had ground together, danger was the intoxicant, and if there wasn’t danger there would have to be something else, some other malign aphrodisiac. I wanted to hit her as much as I wanted to fuck her, and she probably wanted to be hit as much as she wanted anything."
"The gist of the story was that our noble inquisitors were on the job again, righting wrongs. It was a gross oversimplification. A murder didn’t happen in a void, like some sort of hiccough. It was the outcome of an inexorable series of past events climaxing in the act, and with repercussions stretching into the future far beyond the usual inquisition. I listened to myself thinking this way and had to laugh. A murder was a garage sale. A murder was a stag party. A murder was a fire drill. A murder was whatever the Inquisitor’s Office wanted it to be."
"Why is it we have so little choice? We live like the lowliest worms. Always defeated — defeated we make dinner, we eat, we sleep. Everyone we love is dying. Still, to cease living is unacceptable."
Theme by Lauren Ashpole