“...People still came, talking, looking out to sea. They stood around the horn player, the man with the hand drums. There were sellers of invisible commodities, names whispered in the dark. Children kept appearing from the edges, silently crossing some margin or dividing line, cradling the shriveled infants. People drifted toward the Gateway from the street along the sea wall, from the inner streets, the edges, to stand in the warm night together and wait for a breeze. The sound of bicycle bells struck briefly to the air."
From Don DeLillo’s The Names, p 256
From Tom Rachman’s The Imposters
“He looks like a heart attack in a race track toilet, unmissed ‘til next Tuesday.”
p 75
“At the start, I had a spell of luck, and mistook it for a career.”
p 13
From Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl: A Novel
"The once plentiful herds of magazine writers...would continue to be culled— by the Internet, by the recession, by the American public, who would rather watch TV or play video games or electronically inform friends that, like, rain sucks! But there’s no app for a bourbon buzz on a warm day in a cool, dark bar. The world will always want a drink."
Kindle p 10
