Even as you vomit and scream and bang your head on the cement floor with the hope that the pain you create in your head will at least momentarily distract you from the pain in your knees, he lights another cigarette, picks his nose, farts.
Nicholas Montemarano, "The November Fifteen"
If the world were full of da Vincis, we'd all be quarrelsome, gay, left-handed Italians who couldn't finish a painting.
Bruce Sterling, "The Evolution Will Be Mechanized"