Quotes from Richard Kadrey

I'm not a huge fan of other people's logic.

Maybe home isn't the place you love, just the place you know best.

That sounds like the sin of pride, Marshal. Better run downstairs and let Miss December flog it out of you. Webcam it and charge by the minute. You won't ever have to take government money again.

You can take the boy out of the Devil but not the Devil out of the boy

You're quite the humanitarian. By the way, thanks a fuck of a lot for leaving me off your who-to-save list. You're on it, Alfredo Garcia. I just didn't want to say it out loud and have you call me Nancy or Tinker Bell. Yeah, I would have done that.

Sometimes just seeing a woman smile is like a knife in the heart. It hurts and it rattles your whole system, but against all your instincts you swallow the pain and keep looking. After a while you realize it doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would.

On mobile phones: "It looks like a TV remote fucked a little typewriter and this is the bastard offspring

I come from a long line of tall-tale talkers. Our family crest is bullets over crossed fingers and underneath it says, 'Bullshit Über Alles.

The things we do to stay alive for another year. Another day. Another hour. The deals we make with the universe and ourselves. You start to feel dirty.

There are two Venices I know about and one of them is a hotel in Vegas. The other is an L.A. beach where pretty girls walk their dogs while wearing as little as possible and mutant slabs of tanned, posthuman beef sip iced steroid lattes and pump iron until their pecs are the size of Volkswagens.

There's something magical about the sound of breaking glass. Especially around a mob. It works both for humans and Hellions. If you want to start a riot, throw a bottle.

Oh Christ. Put me back with the zombies, Strawberry Shortcake." [p. 411]

You don't have to be afraid of me. Eugene likes you. Doc likes you. That means I like you. We're all family now. All the funny little people who live in the cracks of the world.

I once considered learning to love iced coffee, but then I remembered I'd have to kill myself, so I gave up the idea.

It's more like how some people can't help but bring out the not necessarily righteous parts of your personality. Like how you meet someone and instantly know they're a full-time professional victim, and no matter how hard you try, something takes over and you can't help needling them.

Sometimes there's nothing worse than the truth. It can be harder and sharper and hurt more than a knife. The truth can clear a room faster than tear gas.

None of the palaces in Hell come close to Lucifer's in size or beauty. Lucifer lives at the top of a literal ivory tower, miles high. You can't even see the top from the ground. The joke is that he built it that high so he can lean out the window and pound on Heaven's floor with a broom handle when he wants them to turn down the choir.

Did you send candy and flowers on Valentine's Day, Wells? It's okay, you know. He was a saint.

I can deal with fighting in the arena in Hell, but laundry and dishes put the fear of God in me.

Brooding is for chickens, as my first-grade teacher used to say. Or maybe it was Lucifer. Homily reciters all kind of run together for me.

Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces. Someday the right one will catch you in between the eyes and you'll never see it coming.

The thing you have to understand about Lucifer is that he hardly ever talks, and when he does, it's never much more than a whisper. When half the universe is hanging on to your every word, you don't have to shout.

But she's not going to call the cops or stab me in my sleep, and what more can you ask of a pretty girl?

I wish I could say, "No more Mr. Nice Guy," but the boat sailed on that one a long time ago.