Tomorrow'll be a new day. Which is really the same miserable fucking day all over again. - Tim Winton

Can you shoot?" "I s'pose you mean can I hit anything?

Nanna was the first dead person I ever saw. Her hair was blue against the pillow. And when me hand bumped her cheek she was cold and heavy and a kind of spark went through me, like a terrible familiar feeling. And I understood it then. She was meat. That's what dead things are.

The also-rans will inherit the earth, the whelps, the meek and the fucking nice, and that's what he can no longer stand.