After all, the male ego was a horrible thing.
Robert DunbarStichwörter: male-ego
Every hunchback has his gypsy, each phantom his diva, and flames of passion consume witches and martyrs alike. For any lonely monster, tradition demands that one sacrificial soul seek immolation. Ashes to ashes. It remains the ultimate, transformative act of love.
Robert DunbarStichwörter: transformative
I see dull people,” she yawned.
Robert DunbarStichwörter: dull-people
She wasn’t all that into guys anyhow, she kept telling herself. It’s just there were so goddamn many of them.
Robert DunbarStichwörter: guys
We’ve got to call 911,” she said.
“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” he asked. “Our friends are dead. There’s probably drugs all over the place. You look like an alien, and we’re from out of town. Plus what are we going to report exactly? Think about it. We both know what we saw.”
“It was a roach, right?”
“I guess,” he nodded. “The size of an SUV.
Stichwörter: roach
Even for an inbred clan deep in the swamp, she thought they might well be considered a peculiar bunch, but then the family always had run to eccentricity.
Robert DunbarStichwörter: swamp-trash
The only thing worse than living inside an alligator had to be living inside a decrepit one.
Robert DunbarStichwörter: mother-hubbard-redux
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