In my country, when we think about the future, we shake.

Ah, men losing the power in their dicks. When they can no longer f___ their women, they f___ the world.

If it’s not one god it’s another. Allah or oil. Jesus or Jewels. Lenin or lust.

I believe in the goddess of mystery. And she’s always pregnant!

Hungry for what? Money? No. Power? Over people? That was like having power over clams.

Maybe he had become addicted after all—addicted to being the pivot point, to being as central as that crucial joint between copulating man and woman, but with a danger that did not know the bounds of orgasm.

To make a friend you must close one eye. And to keep a friend, you must close both eyes.

To Cono’s mind the three assailants were all three nearly motionless even as they skittered and dodged, firing, maneuvering for a kill. Cono felt exhilaration—the ecstatic awareness that his strange brain and body had ordained him for just such moments, by allowing him to enter a space outside of time.

What took you so long? Waiting for Buddha?