Quotes from Richard Kadrey

Exactly. I'm the man who makes things happy behind the scenes, but no one knows. I'm Dr. Mabuse." "That's great. Just remember: Dr. Mabuse ended up in the nuthouse." Kasabian makes a face. "Always with the negative waves, Moriarty." I shake my head. "You aren't Donald Sutherland." "And you aren't Clint Eastwood, so just hold the damn book while I finish.

Next time I don't care if you get shot or your balls are stuck in a wood chipper," he says. "You don't come in without a mask.

Janet keeps stabbing and all clever Dan can think to do is roll up like an armadillo and hope he grows armor.

Ignore him. He thinks the Last Supper was nachos and Twinkies.

There's a moment of silence, then the gates swing open. The last fifty yards up to the circular drive are dicey. The car finally commits seppuku halfway around the circle. Steam geysers from the radiator. Darker things leak from below.

Count to sixty and start again, trying to time the drive. It's well over an hour. In most towns that would mean we're halfway to Argentina, but in L.A. it means we could be circling the block looking for parking.

The waiter brings the lamb chops. I'm still angry, but I take a bite of one. And it's like someone split my head open and filled it full of heavenly choirs and motel sex with Candy.

There are more angel sculptures, figurines, and paintings here than at a Vatican garage sale.

He finishes and wipes his mouth. As he folds his napkin he says, "As the poet once said, 'Love has more faces than the moon.'" "What the hell does that mean?" "I have no idea. But it's very pretty, don't you think?

Alessa—sensibly masked—comes downstairs and over to the counter. She takes one look at me and says, "What the hell did you do to yourself?" "He says he got into a fight with a pig," says Candy. "It looks like the pig won." "It was a draw," I say. "But next time I'm coming home with pork chops.

Wherever we are, it isn't like the Tenebrae. No desert monotony. No spiked mountains. It's more like forest land after a nuke attack. Bare, mossy skeleton-like trees and tough tangles of gray and green weeds sprouting on low rolling hills. Pretty much everything but the weeds seems dead here.

ONCE UPON A time I was a regular jackass living a regular jackass life.

How is he?" she says, looking at Kasabian. "He'll be fine. Sore as hell for a while, but fine." "We should all be so lucky." "True. Janet tells me that you're still waiting for a final Immigration interview." She nods infinitesimally.

I didn't sign up for any of this, but at worst I always thought being the Devil would be at least a little fun. Shooting BBs at Hitler as he tightrope walks over a lake of boiling lemon juice and broken glass. Playing Pin the Tail on the Stalin. After lunch, maybe a few rounds of Ted Bundy Whac-A-Mole.

When you jump off a cliff, is it better to land on jagged rocks or burning lava? I know this one. The answer is obvious: It doesn't matter where you land. You just jumped off a cliff.

Soon I see that I was right. A bright pinprick of light flares in the distance. It's either Heaven or we're about to get hit by the 3:10 to Yuma.

I didn't want this high a profile, but at least now everyone knows I'm armed.

Yes. The ritual will take place in the crypt under the church." "When?" "Vespers." "Sunset.

No. You open it." "You think I put a bomb in there? Maybe snakes? Maybe a snake bomb?

What's that old Sunday school warning about how if you fight dragons too long, you can become one? That's been spinning around in my head for years, long enough that I know I'd rather be a dragon than a sheep to the slaughter.

The Council is staring at me. I've been down here a hundred days and still, anytime I say anything but yes or no, they look at me like I'm a talking giraffe.

Sandoval screws up her lips in a sour expression like she just licked the bottom of a bus station chair.

Hellions just aren't used to humans giving them back talk. That's okay. I can use that. Let them find me a little strange. A little inexplicable. Playing the Devil is easier if no one has any idea what you're going to do or say next.

I pull over one of the plush plastic chairs and sit down while he tries to remember what words are. Finally, he's conscious enough to see me and the crazy room. "Where am I?" he says. "In Bilbo Baggins's spaceship." He rubs the back of his neck.