, London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, Chapter 19, He was clothed in what had once been a suit of black material, but was now so bleached by sun and soaked in a hundred dews that it had become a threadbare blotchwork of olive-and-grey rags […]

He wasn′t wearing shoes or a jacket and tie, and his front stud was undone, so that the white collar stood up skew-whiff.

"SWAT uses those nastyass hollow points. A head-hit pretty much turns everything into Hamburger Helper.

We crawl over each other in our race for power, wealth, and fame.