None of them seriously believed the stories they told themselves about themselves.

Nothing had been decided, but everything was solved. Nothing had been repaired, but everything was fixed. Nothing had been cured. Yet everything was healed.

If the sailor in his sling were to turn and look down on her, he'd know she was a whore by the tentacles.

Iron turns red when it corrodes, and copper turns green. Meat turns to maggots, and thoughts turn to speech.