Now that's how you prepare to fight an age-old evil

The real plan, the unspoken one that hid between John's words, was that we would die. But we would die in the middle of what Korrok's people would remember as the single most retarded and baffling incident in their history.  We would be their Guy fawkes.  They would create a holiday about us. 

John Dies at the End, David Wong

Life prep 101

He picked here and there, deliberately, taking his time. He chose a complete set of prejudices which would last him a lifetime and fit him to deal with any situation. He chose his career. He joined a political party.

The Ascent of Rum Doodle, W. E. Bowman

dust to dust

He touched a little buzzer, the New Art doors opened, the flames flapped and the coffin slid smoothly down into the fiery sea. The doors closed, the nurse rose and made for the door, the clergyman smiled gently from behind the slipway, like a conjuror who has produced his nine hundred and fortieth rabbit without a hitch.

Brighton Rock, Graham Greene.

This. Just this

He should have been pleased by his success with these verbal fabrications, but instead he was depressed by it. The memos that came from above telling him he'd done a good job meant nothing to him because they'd been dictated by semi-literates; all they proved was that no one at AnooYoo was capable of appreciating how clever he had been. He came to understand why serial killers sent helpful clues to the police.

Oryx and Crake, Margaret Atwood.

I think I'm related to this lady

there was a glossiness about her that put some people in mind of a candle that had been kept in the warm for too long. There wasn't anything approaching a straight line anywhere on Mrs Whitlow, until she found that something hadn't been dusted properly, when you could use her lips as a ruler.

The Last Continent, Terry Pratchett

Mobile phone contacts maintenance

I remember telling McGowan how I'd been flicking through all my contacts the night before when it occurred to me that many of them couldn't be considered real friends. I decided to delete a whole bunch, even if they were people I'd known forever. It bothered McGowan that I would do that. "Those are your contacts man," he said. "Yeah? So?" "Don't you care about your contacts?" "Why should I?" "I just don't get why you do stuff like that," he said,. "I wish you wouldn't do stuff like that. It's depressing." I didn't see why it should be depressing to him. They were my contacts. Then one day I got a call out of the blue. "Hello?" I said. "Hey," replied the voice on the other end. "Who is this?" I asked, not having the number in my contacts. It turned out to be McGowan. We haven't talked since,

To Rise Again at a Decent Hour, Joshua Ferris

Sickboy wasn't called that for nothing

Aw. It's always nice to leave somebody when they say they'd like to see you again, because there will inevitably come a time when you leave them because they don't want to see you again. 

Porno, Irvine Welsh

Such affection

Really, he became like the son I didn't want and never had. 

And Through It All I've Always Laughed, Count Arthur strong

The silver fox hides a heavy heart

Harold sat in silence. The silver-haired gentleman was in truth nothing like the man Harold had first imagined him to be. He was a chap like himself with a unique pain; and yet there would be no knowing that if you passed him in the street, or sat opposite him in a cafe and did not share his teacake. Harold pictured the gentleman on a station platform, smart in his suit, looking no different from anyone else. It must be the same all over England. People were buying milk, or filling their cars with petrol, or even posting letters. And what no one else knew was the appalling weight of the thing they were carrying inside.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, Rachel Joyce

I know this well

Their conversation was an odd, semi-surreal mixture of deliberate banalities, light ironies and playful banter. Jonathan felt at home with this. In a world that obstinately refused to make any sense at all, Jonathon had always felt it was presumptuous to talk as though it did.

The Perpetual Astonishment of Jonathon Fairfax, Christopher Shevlin

Not a sports fan, then

She had long since moved into the Cricketer's flat in st John's wood, next to Lords where he did a lot of his important business of propelling a little ball around a field.

Knot, Mark Watson

I believe

Miss Tick sniffed. 'You could say this advice is priceless,' she said, 'are you listening?'

'Yes,' said Tiffany.

'Good. Now... if you trust in yourself...'

'Yes?'

'...and believe in your dreams...'

'Yes?'

'...and follow your star...' Miss Tick went on.

'Yes?'

'...you'll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren't so lazy. Goodbye.'

The Wee Free Men, Terry Pratchett

I admire their passion

As far as she was concerned, conviviality was always a lie. You could fake being nice, she would say, but being a cunt came from the heart.

Idiopathy, Sam Byers

Also slippers

There is something awful about mixing violence with cardigans.

The Humorist, Russell Kane

It's the sniff

"Gretta sniffs as she dips her knife into the red mouth of the jam pot."

Instructions for a Heatwave. Maggie O'Farrell

In a rich man's world

When you have money, then for the first time in your life you understand it, what money does for you. Where before, all you understood was not having it, money allows you to be who you truly are.

 The Good German

Quite

"Just tell me the truth."

"There is no truth. There is only opinion and memory."

Smoke, Alex de Campi

Well who hasn’t, really?

Miley Cyrus lit up a joint on stage and twerked with a dwarf,  

The Independent, November 11, 2013

Regrettably recognisable

“Yes. Your attitude measures up to the two requirements of love. You want to go to bed with her and can’t, and you don’t know her very well. Ignorance of the other person topped up with deprivation, Jim. You fit the formula all right, and what’s more you want to go on fitting it. The old hopeless passion isn’t it?

Lucky Jim, Kingsley Amis

This seems familiar

Arthur's cubicle used to be near the watercooler, but the bosses tired of having to chat wtih him each time they got thirsty. So the watercooler stayed and he was moved. Now his desk is in a distant corner, as far from the locus of power as possible but nearer the cupboard of pens, which is a consolation.

The Imperfectionists, Tom Rachman