53 Quotes About Pulp-fiction

(I'm not online.) I don’t have a fax. I don’t go in for any of that stuff. The typewriter is as far as I went.

She was stubborn. She was evolving. She needed SOLITUDE like normal people needed exercise.

Trevor climbed once again to the land of the living, naked except for an antique gas mask strapped to his face. As he peered through glass eyes like a mutant fly and breathed through the alien snoot, a single thought coiled through the booby-trapped labyrinth of his brain:I need to be alone.I need to be alone.I need to be alone.

The whirlwind in his brain—which had so many times tugged his pituitary in ways that made him TAKE instead of GIVE—subsided for the very first time. Tightness in his crotch usually corresponded with a tightness in his gut, making him want to CONTROL, to CHOKE, to SUBDUE... but not this time.Not ever again.

The same as a cigarette?" asked Rita excitedly, as Mrs. Sin bent over her."The same, but very, very gentle.

I like stories about supervillains. They teach children that you can accomplish great things even when the whole world is against you.

The Quetzal Motel was a father/daughter operation, and they hurt for money but with just enough to stay in groceries. But who could tell? After tonight, their fortunes might perk up. It was better to look on the bright side. She took a deep breath and plunged back into Philip Nostrum’s realm of futuristicdoings.

His agility surprised Phoebe Ash. She saw the plaster cast on his right leg. Funny messages in ink—“Go break the left one, tiger!”—had been written on the off-white plaster.

The scar rippled from the top of her bikini line down to her thigh. Where normal girls had hair, Ava had a quilt of mangled skin that required tweezers to de-fur. For ten months she tried joking about it (“Turns out sharks really CAN smell menstrual blood a mile away!”). She tried fixing it with a myriad of steroid injections and silicon gels. She even tried ignoring it. Her last hope was to confront it.