Moxyland

This is my idea of family, actually, a sticky morass you can't chew your way out of.

you're deluding yourself that you have some deep spiritual connection, like you didn't just read it on Wikipedia. There's a difference between tradition and culture.

Don’t let anyone tell you that Apartheid has nothing to do with South Africa now. Those roots run deep and tangled and we’ll be tripping over them for many generations to come.

Visibility limits your imagination of the ocean only as far as you can see, ten metres, fifteen at a stretch. But it's only in the utter black that you can feel the true scale, the volume and weight of that gaping unknowable drift between continents.

You can’t play nice by society’s rules? Then you don’t get to play at all. No phone. No service. No life. Tendeka

...with the amount of sugar I’m doing, she’s lucky I can remember the colour of my eyes without a mirror.

You can map out a whole city according to the weight of memory, like pins on the homicide board tracking the killer's movements. But the connections get thicker and denser and more complicated all the time.

You'd think I would know better than to get involved with someone in my own department. But I'm really crap at resisting sexual tension. Oh, it's entertaining for a few weeks, the fuzzy sting that rushes down your vertebra to your groin when the eyes meet, the banter spiked with innuendo - then it becomes irritating, and you need to get it out of your system. Neutralize it by indulging it, which is fine, assuming you can both keep it tidy.