Quotes from Gil Brewer

She looked hot enough to catch fire, but too lazy to do anything but just lie there and smoke.

She looked like a vixen, and that's what she was; she had all the instincts of a female fox. She was the proverbial predatory female. She had what she wanted, now, and she was content. There was just the getting completely away with it that counted.

She looked slick as hell; polished, neat, and with that feminine deadliness that can drive you nuts. They work on it till they get complete control of the situation. There's no use trying to break them down. They've made it.

Doom. You recognize Doom easily. It's a feeling and a taste, and it's black, and it's very heavy. It comes down over your head, and wraps tentacles around you, and sinks long dirty fingernails into your heart. It has a stink of burning garbage.

He looked as if someone had machine gunned his soul.

His voice went flat. "They criticized me," he said. "The criticized me for the way I went about things, my dreams." His voice became like still water, like a nest of sleeping snakes, and you could feel the mad wrath contained within that voice. "They always criticized me, even when I did big things. I'm doing a big thing now. They won't criticize me. If they do, I'll kill them. Ignorance. There's no room for it in my plans. No room.

I looked at her. She wore a very tight and tiny two-piece orange bathing swimsuit that inadequately covered the overplump body I'd been using as a forget-yourself machine.

She was about eighteen, wearing a two-piece red bathing suit. She had blonde hair and she was really built, so when she ran you wanted to watch.

I knew I'd never get enough of her. She was straight out of hell.

She was like steel. It was in her eyes, and in her voice, and in the fine, shining look of her. From the sparkling ankles to the expensive-crink of a hat. She looked sexy and untouchable, the way they can look if they want. She looked expensive.

The sign was done in blue lights and it kind of hung like a ghost there in the dripping trees. It swung and you could hear it creak. Just the sign, and nothing else.

He burned and crackled and he ran from me with a sudden childlike agility, as if all the stamina of his youth had returned.

The one real woman you want just doesn't exist. She's a dream you have to live with. Reaching, reaching, reaching - but never touching.

Get a better job, Harve. Ask for a raise. Good Lord, we aren't living. We're existing!

He was a sensitive man and many people had caused him anguish.

Watch for when he goes," she whispered. "Then come over to my bedroom. I'll be waiting, darling. Run!