Quotes from Richard Kadrey

The Magistrate and Empress stand arm in arm like the monster-movie American Gothic.

What does that stupid song mean? What's supposed to be in my heart? I go over the lyrics a couple more times in my head. "All things bright and beautiful, / All creatures great and small, / All things wise and wonderful, / The Lord God made them all." Basically, it's saying that God made everything and everything is just great. This thing is a damn Disney nightmare. God made everything and everything is great.

I taste my espresso. It's good. Dammit. How am I supposed to hate people if they make good coffee?

We're in front of a run-down little motel, the kind you see along Route 66, but not the quaint kind you stay in. It's more like the ones where you check in for an hour and come out with crabs or what in gentler times they called a "social malady.

Let the circle of celebrity be unbroken. Amen.

I heard every time you call an excommunicated priest 'Father,' an angel gets hemorrhoids.

Something evil and full of testosterone must be smiling down on me tonight.

They say, "How are you feeling?" "Like I got gored by a water buffalo shot out of one of those circus cannons they use for clowns. You know the ones?" They smile. "Yeah. I've seen them." "How is that even a job? What do you put on your taxes? 'Clown gunner'?" Janet laughs a little. "It's good to see you your own ridiculous self again.

We're not demons. We're human. If we make a bargain, we keep it." "Humans are the most treacherous animals in existence! Everyone knows that!" Ashbliss shouted. "It's not even fun going to Earth and corrupting you because you're all halfway there.

I consider going to Bamboo House and drinking myself horizontal, but that's what I always do, and where has it gotten me? Pretty much where I am now—standing in a hallway talking to myself about things and people I don't understand anymore.

What do you want me to do?" says Kasabian. "I don't think Howard can get out of the bedroom, but if he does . . ." "I know. Punch him in the balls." "You got it.

And, of course, there's LAPD surveillance cams. But they can go fuck themselves at the best of times and right now, they can fuck themselves and Mount Rushmore too.

Instead they're crying like a school bus full of little French girls whose ice cream all melted.

The other bad part about being tossed out of a second story by one dead prick is that other dead pricks tend to notice.

put the book in my pocket and step away from his body. On one side, Janet takes my hand. On the other, Candy loops her arm in mine. Good thing. Looking at Vidocq lying there, I get that disembodied feeling again, like maybe if someone wasn't holding me I'd blow away on the breeze.

Ray comes out a few seconds later, wiping his hands on a small towel. He's in a white shirt and tan pants. In good shape. He's sandy haired and wearing Buddy Holly glasses. Ray could be a computer programmer or an ad writer. Whatever he does for a living, he doesn't look like any brujo I've ever seen. He puts out his hand as he comes in. "Hi. I'm Ray," he says. We shake. "I'm Stark." He walks back to stand by Carlos.

Mimir sucks in the smoke and suddenly I want another Malediction. Her eyes roll back in her head. She begins to shake. She mumbles something unintelligible, like she's chanting or speaking in tongues. It's your basic oracle carny act. I've seen a million of them. They always look like they're about to have an aneurysm. If they didn't, the rubes wouldn't think they were getting their money's worth.

I still have some of Sinclair's money in my pocket so when a waitress comes over and doesn't throw me out I order coffee. That seems to confuse her and she starts naming alternatives. "Maybe you mean an Americano? Maybe a flat white or a macchiato?" "Those all sound like wrestling holds. I just want coffee.

This fire is a big deal. A huge deal. A giant, flaming, goddamn, piece-of-shit, agonizing, I-want-to-rip-my-own-head-off deal.

Her wild hair hangs down like dead weeds and she's wearing a dress that looks like she took it off a Disney princess, tossed it in a grain thresher, and got an ape to sew it back together.

What kind of knife is this?" "It's a chip from the chicken legs that hold up Baba Yaga's house. A good-luck charm. Keep it if you want. Just don't tell Baba Yaga you got it from me.

Yes," she says, still smiling at me. "It's the one in the little cups." "Great. I'll take four of those." She raises one eyebrow at me. "Let me guess. You're a late riser or you tied one on last night." "Yes and yes. I had a little accident and my hosts didn't have Vicodin, so I had to make do with bourbon." "Sounds a lot like my house. Only we always have Vicodin around.

Dying isn't the worst thing in the world, but dying because you're stupid is.

She screws up her face in a parody of deep concentration.