Keep your best whiskey in a bottle marked ‘mouthwash.’ — Pat Cadigan

Reaching in, he wrapped the exposed wires around his fingers and ripped them out. The locks released, letting the door fall open a crack.

“That’s what we call a Luddite hack.”

He had the sudden urge to put his arms around her, but the look on her face said that if he made a move toward her, she would move away, and maybe she would keep moving away from him until the distance between them was too great to cross again in one lifetime.

If you can’t fuck it, and it doesn’t dance, eat it or throw it away.