White Fire

A strange, pale figure emerged—Pendergast?—and she felt herself suddenly in his arms, lifted bodily as if she were a child again, her head cradled against his chest. She felt his shoulders began to convulse, faintly, regularly, almost as if he was weeping. But that was, of course, impossible, as Pendergast would never cry.

Carroting, you must understand, was a process by which animal fur is bathed in a solution of mercury nitrate, in order to render the hairs more supple, thus producing a superior felt.” At this last word, he threw a significant glance in my direction. “Felt,” I repeated. “You mean, for the making of hats?” “Precisely. The solution is of an orange colour, hence the term carroting. However, this process had rather severe side effects on those who worked with it, which is why its use today is much reduced. When mercury vapours are inhaled over a long enough period of time—particularly, for our purposes, in the close quarters of a hat-making operation—toxic and irreversible effects almost inevitably follow. One develops tremors of the hands; blackened teeth; slurred speech. In severe cases, dementia or outright insanity can occur. Hence the term mad as a hatter.

An accident is only a puzzle piece that hasn’t yet found its place in the picture. A good detective collects all ‘accidents,’ no matter how insignificant.

the shudder of fear is as sensual as the shudder of pleasure, if not more so.

Fire is often the weapon of choice for the insane.

It is all about how human beings construct a narrative out of random events, baseless assumptions, and simple-minded prejudices.

She felt his shoulders began to convulse, faintly, regularly, almost as if he was weeping. But that was, of course, impossible, as Pendergast would never cry.

I don’t know jack about wine, sorry.” “You should learn. It is one of the true and ancient pleasures that make human existence tolerable.

There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.

as corrie was about to hang up, stacy said, "i hope he shoots at my car. i've got a couple of black talon rounds just itching to explore his inner psyche.

I am indeed sorry to say this, but I fear your microscopic problems do not interest me.

Everything he did, he did well, and as a result he was an accomplished asshole indeed.

I prefer to sleep while the rabble are out and about.