Instead of true joy, I feel waves; the kind that make you look forward to the smell of laundry on a rainy… — DBC Pierre
Instead of true joy, I feel waves; the kind that make you look forward to the smell of laundry on a rainy Saturday, the type of drippy hormones that trick you into saying I Love You. Security they fucken call it. Watch out for that shit. Those waves erode your goddam bravery. I even get a wave of gratitude for the judge—go fucken figure. I mean, Judge Gurie's been good to me, but—expand on the bowel thing?—I don't fucken think so.
Source: Wikiquote · CC BY-SA 4.0
More from this book
Fate always pays attention to what you think, then slams it up your fucken ass.
'And here's the winning ticket,' says Gibbons. 'Green forty-seven!' A sluggish frenzy breaks through the tent. The kid stops, and drags a mangled pink ticket from his pocket. He squints at it, like it might turn fucken green.
"We could turn your situation around three hundred and sixty degrees..."
