novel

Once I was King of the Titans. Now I need a MedicAlert bracelet and a subscription to the Safe Return program. Can you put out a Silver Alert on a god? I__e fallen and I can__ get up.

I've learned that the most unbelievable is the most believable.

I have a question for you. When you were a little boy, is this the man you dreamed of becoming?

Sometimes surviving is all you can do

It was past midnight. From the carpark of the apartment blocks, a human figure with an unsteady gait emerged.

A poem can't do its work if you only read snippets of it.

Schopenhauer wrote that to desire immortality is to desire the eternal perpetuation of a great mistake. He was correct.

Dead. Supposedly Suicide. That's how they'll kill Michael too. Make it look like a suicide or an accident of some sort.

I enjoy writing fiction more than writing anything else. Wouldn't anyone?

Funny how much we all suffer trying to spare others a bit of pain.

We all have a book in us. The first step is recognising this. Writing it is a whole new journey.

At my age, every day that I overcome simple inertia is a victory.

I was happy but happy is an adult word. You don't have to ask a child about happy, you see it. They are or they are not. Adults talk about being happy because largely they are not. Talking about it is the same as trying to catch the wind. Much easier to let it blow all over you. This is where I disagree with the philosophers. They talk about passionate things but there is no passion in them. Never talk happiness with a philosopher.

It's absurd how crazy love can make you......but even more absurd how stupid jealousy can make you!

I will not be a victim. I will not think like a victim. I am going to avenge all those little girls. I am going to win.

I don't know. But it takes a special woman to have such a great love - Zhongwen

When he unleashes on her everything falls together. Like a crick in the neck snapped into place, the boy's brain pops and is put right. It is a beautiful undoing, a beautiful becoming. He doesn't stop to think about it when the punches follow her down to the ground. He doesn't stop to notice when she goes still or when the pool of blood under her head pillows out into a great, liquid heart. He doesn't stop until he's pulled off her and he doesn't start to think again until that night, when he's back at home. For hours and hours his brain stays beautifully popped into place.

And what is gossip anyway?Just fragments of sad accounts, maneuvered and mutilated year after year for our sinful pleasure.