Island of the Sequined Love Nun

Boredom can be a lethal thing on a small island.

After all the evidence is in--after you've run all the facts by everything you know--and you're still lost, you have to do some things on faith.

Sometimes this high-tech world calls for low-tech solutions.

This Roberto. He no like the light.

Even a mentally challenged shark would figure out that sea turtles did not wear boxer shorts printed in flying piggies, and no sea turtle would be yattering streams of obscenities between chain-smoker gasps of breath.

Success in America doesn't require any special talent or any kind of extra effort. You just have to be consistent and not fuck up. That's how most people fail. They can't stand the pressure of getting what they want, so when they see that they are getting close they engineer some sort of fuckup to undermine their success.

If manta rays are going to be harmless, they should look more harmless, Pardee thought. Fuckers look like aquatic Draculas.

We Ask the Gods for Answers and They Give Us Questions

Alive," Kimi interrupted. "I get you out of typhoon alive and you just yell and say bad things. I quit. You get new navigator. Roberto say you mean, nasty, Chevy-driving, milk-drinking, American dog f*cker." I don't drink milk," Tuck said. Ha! Won that round.

He didn’t understand religion. It was like heroin or golf: He knew a lot of people did it, but he didn’t understand why.

Tucker Case did not play golf. He’d tried it once, and although he’d enjoyed the drinking and driving the little electric car into the lake, he just didn’t get the appeal. It seemed—and he’d examined the game closely because his father had loved it—an awful lot like a bunch of rich white guys in goofy clothing walking around on an absurdly large lawn hitting absurdly small white balls with crooked sticks.

Multiple Personality Barbie. She’s elegant, she’s fashionable, and she’s the reason that Ken has no genitals! Have fun, but remember to hide the sharp stuff!

Tuck watched the sun bubble into the ocean. Columns of vertical cumulus clouds turned to cones of pink cotton candy, then as the sun became a red wafer on the horizon, they turned candy-apple red, with purple rays reaching out of them like searchlights. The water was neon over wet asphalt, blood-spattered gunmetal—colors from the cover of a detective novel where heroes drink hard and beauty is always treacherous.

The key to retaining their respect was to find out what they wanted to do, then tell them to do it.

The only way to control the faithful is to not become one of them

Privacy is a rare commodity on a small island and secrets weigh heavy on their keepers

Isolate ’em. That’s why all your loony-toon cult guys have to get their people out in the boonies somewhere where no one can talk any sense into ’em. Just

if you do your job and assume that everyone else is incompetent, you will seldom be disappointed.

Il mattino dopo, il primo pensiero di Tuck fu: Ho un aereo da prendere. Il secondo: ho il cazzo rotto. Succede. Hai un'irritazione intima - emorroidi, crampi mestruali, malattie veneree, la vescica infiammata - e per quanto provi a sfuggirne l'attrazione gravitazionale, la mente si ritrova imprigionata nell'orbita del pensiero circolare. Se qualcosa riesce a distrarti dall'irritazione, è un'altra irritazione. La vita è un'irritazione.

La febbre aveva catapultato Tucker Case in un sogno nel quale veniva gettato in mezzo a grandi onde elastiche di demoni dalle ali di pipistrello - sbriciolato, soffocato, morso e graffiato - e là, nel caos, vedeva con la coda dell'occhio un foglietto rosa di ammorbidente, a riprova del fatto che lo avevavno sbattuto nel cestello di una lavatrice infernale.

Ma la smetteva o no di fare il difficile? «Senti, Darwin, stanotte i dinosauri non scopano di sicuro, Scegli con chi stare».

I didn’t do anything. I didn’t move a thing, I didn’t touch a thing, I didn’t change a thing. Believers do everything.