Hope is merely another face of desire. And desire is a motherfucker.

Christopher Moore

Mots clés the-stupidest-angel

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Oh, how the pillars of lust can crumble under the weight of stupidity.

Christopher Moore

Mots clés the-stupidest-angel

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All men are evil, that’s what I was talking to my father about.
What did he say?
Fuck ‘em.
Really?
Yeah.
At least he answered you.
I got the feeling that he thinks it’s my problem now.
Makes you wonder why he didn’t burn that on one of the tablets. ‘HERE, MOSES, HERE’S THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, AND HERE’S AN EXTRA ONE THAT SAYS FUCK ‘EM.’
He doesn’t sound like that.

Christopher Moore

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It’s like he has this power over me—like I have an eating disorder and he’s a package of Oreo Double Stuff cookies.

Christopher Moore

Mots clés love crush

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Which isn’t, like, as bad as it sounds, because the general public kind of sucks ass.

Christopher Moore

Mots clés people

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The noise was like, well, it was like a thousand vampire cats clawing on Plexiglas—it made their teeth hurt.

Christopher Moore

Mots clés noise sound

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I tried cutting myself to express my heartbreak over Tommy (Lord Flood) rejecting me, but OMFG it hurts like flaming fuck.

Christopher Moore

Mots clés pain love hurt cutting self-mutilation

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I will not die for a long time." Joseph tugged at his gray beard. "My beard goes white, but there's a lot of life in me yet."
"Don't be so sure, Abba," Joshua said.
Joseph dropped the bowl he was working on and stared into his hands. "Run away and play, you two," he said, his voice little more than a whisper.
Joshua stood and walked away. I wanted to throw my arms around the old man, for I had never seen a grown man afraid before and it frightened me too. "Can I help?" I said, pointing to the half-finished bowl that lay in Joseph's lap.
"You go with Joshua. He needs a friend to teach him to be human. Then I can teach him to be a man.

Christopher Moore

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It was an eight-harlot inn, if that's how you measure an inn. (I understand that now they measure inns in stars. We are in a four-star inn right now. I don't know what the conversion from harlots to stars is.)

Christopher Moore

Mots clés humour hotels

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Snake eyes!" the croupier said.          "Lizard dick!" Coyote shouted back.

This sent me to convulsions.

Christopher Moore

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