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Kindle Notes & Highlights
They were either hunched over steaming bowls of soup or smoking pipes and cigarettes—most of them so wrinkled and desiccated they could have been constructed entirely of scrotal skin.
The night at work moved like honey poured over an iceberg.
See, Chinatown is a mystery wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a wonton, and fried.
“You’re gonna put me through the third degree after giving me the razzmatazz all night on the sand like a hobo?”
Street—the fog off the bay was streaming between the buildings like a scarf through a stripper’s legs, leaving everything damp and smelling of sailors’ broken dreams.
“That man had a dick like a dinosaur.”
About which I do not give a warm squirt of pee.
