Clockwork Boys

Inspiration knocks now and again, but spite bangs on the door all year long.

That shouldn’t be possible. Caliban, however, took the view that when something impossible was going on, it was best to deal with it as you found it, and not stand around claiming it wasn’t happening.

When did you two learn to ride?” he asked. “Nineteen years ago.” “This morning.” Caliban put his hands over his face. “We’re going to die.

Oh, come on, if your friends aren't willing to strangle you, what kind of friends are they?

Oh, relax. It’s not like the stick up his ass can get any stickier.

Have you ever considered giving up killing people and becoming a tailor?” “Oh, yes.” “And?” “I don’t like people unless I’m stabbing them.

Somehow that was cheering. Not because she wished him ill, but because there are few things in life as steadying as someone you have to be brave for.

He took another swallow, vaguely hoping that sobriety would lie at the bottom of the glass.

He's got a heart of gold... cold, metallic and made of money

Really stupid people die all the time. And if they can manage it, I oughta have no problem.

The rabbit flicked its ears, looked up at Brenner, and said, in a deep, thoughtful voice, “You’ll die laughing, you know.

I am not a nun,” said Slate. “Incidentally, that’s the first time I’ve ever had to tell anyone that.

Would you like to go on a suicide mission?" She asked instead. He smiled. It was the first genuine smile she'd seen all day. "I would be honored," he said.

My mother was a very high-class courtesan who counted her fertile days by the moon. Her beauty was impeccable, her math skills were not.” She swept a hand at herself. “And here I am.

The knight finished what he was doing, turned to her, and dropped to one knee as if he was offering fealty. Slate recoiled, then saw that he was actually offering her his interlaced hands as a mounting block. “Ohthankyougod,” she said, stepping into his hands. “Not a god, just a paladin,” he muttered, then belied his irritated tone by waiting patiently while she used his shoulder as a stepladder and ascended the heights of Mt. Equine.

I no longer have a church to serve, so I will swear to you, instead.

There are few things in life as steadying as someone you have to be brave for.

If I'd given him too much, he'd know something was afoot. Too much money is as dangerous as too little; it means you want it too bad.

Sonofabitch is patronizing me. Sonofabitch thinks I’m weak. Even Learned-bloody-Edmund is at least scared I’ll fry his genitals off.

No. I cannot believe that. I must believe that the gods do not send us trials that we cannot endure. It would have been easier to believe that if he hadn’t seen so many people broken by the trials they had endured.

Oh, come on, if your friends aren’t willing to strangle you, what kind of friends are they?” asked Brenner.

Something about his posture, and the way he kept blinking, made her think that he might be worried about crying too. Somehow that was cheering. Not because she wished him ill, but because there are few things in life as steadying as someone you have to be brave for.

Still, what kind of turns did a life have to take before you discovered that your personal gift from the universe was making carnivorous tattoos?

Thank you. For --' he searched briefly for the words, '--giving me my death back.

How dare he tell me about his awful past at a particularly relevant moment? The nerve of the man!

Slate stepped in, her face as cool and detached as a woman doing long division.

He put something into it.” “Was it poison?” she asked hopefully. “I don’t think so.” “Damn.

Slate and Brenner sang rounds of dirty songs together. Brenner had a surprisingly good voice. Slate didn’t. She did get to enjoy watching Learned Edmund twitch when she went for the high notes.