Kindle Notes & Highlights
The city was a faceless place, uncaring and uninterested in the foibles—often unspeakably foul foibles—of its visitors and denizens, a great shuddering ennui that city dwellers call being “cosmopolitan” and believe a virtue. Such are the delusions and madness of crowds.
With enough provocation, even the most urbane sophisticate seemed able to lay hands upon a pitchfork and burning torch at very short notice.
Walking helped him to think and, today, he was thinking what an unpleasant day it was to be walking.
It is hard to regard oneself as civilised when one oozes in warm weather.
a sudden phenomena as unexpected as a rain of fish.
There was no inkling of intent or attitude in his posture until, finally, he turned away to gaze moodily or philosophically—it was impossible to tell—at the horses’ arses arrayed before him.
the door opened. He noted that it had done so without the door handle moving, which seemed ill-mannered.
Feeling his usual state of irritation with the world and most of the things in it settle upon him like a cloud of lice,
“You don’t mind if I call you ‘Johannes,’ do you?” Cabal, finding diplomacy and self-preservation might well be the same thing at that moment, did not.
He was past pain now, tending into the foothills of agony.
Brimstone, devils, fiery depths, cribbage. It is all so theatrical.” He considered. “Well, perhaps not the cribbage. I think that’s more of a hobby.
