R. Garcia y Robertson

"“This is not possible. Here in America we have democracy.” “Hell, honey,” said the Irish woman, “this ain’t America, this is San Francisco.”"

"The king is free to call his greed taxation, and his misdeeds justice."

"“Why are they shooting at us?” The older man stared at her. Kurt answered evenly, “That is what every soldier wants to know—I suppose it is because we are shooting at them.”"

"Staring into the face of a corpse is sure to make one question where life is headed."

"A man makes his mark as much by the quality of his enemies as by the quality of his friends."

"“This isn’t fair.” “Hell, no! It’s democracy.”"

"A single truth well-told did the work of a dozen lies."

"He is a Nevada senator, a pimp, and a railroad lawyer; all three professions having much the same qualifications. He is also a saloonkeeper, but no man in Nevada is anything unless he is also a saloonkeeper."

"Nothing beats going to bed dead and waking up alive."

"Dieter had the true Gypsy contempt for governments, plunging their people into one holocaust after another, calling each new disaster leadership. Or statescraft."

"Smack, crack, crank, speed, booze, acid, has, bhang, poppies, and belladonna; none of the above (or all of them taken at once) had even half the addictive power of gaming."

"Ian got up and looked around. Sicker than the stories themselves was the way they were told, full of verve and energy—as if it actually mattered. He hated to hear gamers spilling their guts, trying to sound bad. All it showed was how totally delusional they were. The most elemental rule of gaming was that if you die, you lose—your original stake is gone. You have to give up, or buy your way back in. This tough talk amounted to a bunch of chronic losers bucking themselves up by boasting about how badly they had lost. Somehow he had to win."