More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can’t wear grey trousers.
He trotted forward and, lifting his hindleg, pissed quick short at an unsmelt rock. The simple pleasures of the poor.
A corpse is meat gone bad. Well and what’s cheese? Corpse of milk.
—That’s it, he said. We are the fat. You and I are the fat in the fire. We haven’t got the chance of a snowball in hell.
It was a nun they say invented barbed wire.
