“Veins practically popping out of his neck, the jerk leaned out his window and yelled a bunch of swear words, including a new one I tucked away in my brain for future use, if necessary.”

“Each of us must have tucked away in some corner of his and her brain a contrarian -- or ipkha mistabra -- compartment whose function it is to seek out views other than those we readily consent to because they swarm around us. The devil’s advocate can well turn out to be an angelic emissary. And swimming against the stream may be the best way to avoid drowning.”

“If one more person tells me this is just like old times, I swear I'll jump out the window.”

“I wondered if kicking him in the head would make the whole explanation pop out of his mouth in one chunk.”

“This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man's brains out of his hair. That is my job.”

“Are we fighting?" I asked Morelli.
"No. Were discussing."
"Are you sure?"
"Am I yelling?" Morelli asked. "Is my face purple? Are the cords on my neck standing out? Am I waving my arms around?"
"No."
"The were not fighting.”

“God gave me a soul / And your rock 'n' roll
In and out my brain / And running through my vein / You're my sunshine / You're my rain”

“He unzipped his pants and his brains fell out.”

“One day, observing a child drinking out of his hands, he cast away the cup from his wallet with the words, "A child has beaten me in plainness of living."”

“In my sights I carve him
like a sculptor. I mold out
his last look at everyone.
I carry his eyes and his
brain bone at every position.
I know his male sex and I do
march over him with my index finger.
His mouth and his anus are one.
I am at the center of feeling.”