Quote

Besides, do you think you would have come if I’d just popped into your tattoo shop one night around closing and said, ‘Hello, I’m the Prince of Darkness. Think you could help me out with a little war next Tuesday, say, sixish?

Richard Kadrey

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Richard Kadrey
Age: 67
Born: 1957
Born: August 27
Novelist
Photographer
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
New York City
New York
Richard Albert Kadrey
Come
Help
Tattoo
Would
War
Closing
Think
Helping
Hello
Thinking
Next
Shop
Night
Prince
Around
Besides
Littles
Shops
Popped
Little
Darkness
Tuesday

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In the Tarot deck, the Fool is depicted as a young man about to step off a cliff into empty air. Most people assume that the Fool will fall. But we don't see it happen, and a Fool doesn't know that he's subject to the laws of gravity. Against all odds, he just might float.
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I'd like to think they're staring at me because of my white-hot animal magnetism, but I'm not Elvis. I'm Lobster Boy, hear me roar.
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As each wave of technology is released. It must be accompanied by a demand for new skills, new language. Consumers must constantly update their ways of thinking, always questioning their understanding of the world. Going back to old ways, old technology is forbidden. There in no past, no present, only an endless future of inadequacy
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God is the great janitor of the universe. Why things don't work is that we have a janitor in charge, and we keep looking for the landlord.
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Enemies will kill you with a knife in the back. Friends will kill you with kindness. Either way you're dead.
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I tap a Malediction out of the box, fire it up, and puff. It tastes like a tire fire in a candy factory next door to a strip club. The best cigarettes ever.
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I can deal with fighting in the arena in Hell, but laundry and dishes put the fear of God in me.
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Did I hurt your feelings again? Sorry. When this is all over I'll send some flowers to your inner child.
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That's what Glocks are. High-precision killing machines that scream Daddy Issues.
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In this life, no matter what anyone promises you, what allegiances of love or fealty they swear or what gods they pray to, you will never have more than what you have at this moment.
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Try not to sing too many sad songs for yourself. The universe already hates you. Self-pity isn't going to help.
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If his drunkenness had legs, it would be Alexander the Great and conquer the known world. Then it would puke for a week into a solid gold toilet it stole from Zeus's guest room.
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There are two Venices I know about and one of them is a hotel in Vegas. The other is an L.A. beach where pretty girls walk their dogs while wearing as little as possible and mutant slabs of tanned, posthuman beef sip iced steroid lattes and pump iron until their pecs are the size of Volkswagens.
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The universe is a meat grinder and we're just pork in designer shoes, keeping busy so we can pretend we're not all headed for the sausage factory. Maybe I've been hallucinating this whole time and there is no Heaven and Hell. Instead of having to choose between God and the devil, maybe our only real choice comes down to link or patty?
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If Donald Trump and the Wicked Witch of the West had a kid, it would be Jayne-Anne. She looks like a librarian with some money and good taste in clothes but underneath the Verace, she's Godzilla with tits.
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No wonder Sherlock Holmes did all that coke. Math is hard.
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If I learned anything Downtown, it's this: the only real difference between an enemy and a friend is the day of the week.
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If Jesus was a bartender, He would still only be half as cool as Carlos.
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