Poetry is one of the few nasty childhood habits I've managed to grow out of.

I don't read the Sunday papers; or the dailies, either.

Everything is out there if you know how to find it, and have the patience. I don't and haven't, but that's my problem.

The best definition of an immortal is someone who hasn't died yet.

New technology is useful, but it's inefficient and ugly; it knows it'll be obsolete by lunchtime tomorrow, so it has no incentive to be anything else.

Call it a hunch; and hunches don’t just materialise, you pay for them with hard-earned experience. No such thing as a free hunch.

Threats... are the last resort of the inadequate negotiator.

He made a conscious decision not to think about it, and accordingly spent the rest of his shift thinking about nothing else.

That’s the problem with running away, said the little voice. No matter where you go, you have to take yourself with you; and if yourself is constitutionally incapable of leaving well enough alone and not worrying if the rest of the world is weirder than ferret ragout, where the hell is the point?

Thanks anyway,′ Vanderdecker repeated, and wandered off to have a stare at the sea. It was his equivalent to beating his head repeatedly against a wall.