Ah don’t hate the English. They’re just wankers. We are colonised by wankers. We can’t even pick a decent, vibrant, healthy culture to be colonised by. No. We’re ruled by effete arseholes. What does that make us?
I love doubt in a woman. It’s nearly as sexy as determination.
It unsettles the women as they have dropped their disguise and are now giant praying mantis with blonde and auburn wigs, lipstick smeared on those deadly pincher-like insect jaws.
Sitting in the brightly lit library, surrounded by books, in total silence, that was ma personal zenith.
Okay baby, let’s take this rocket to Uranus. This hoor is perfect, and she can act as well.
You can only learn through failure, and what ye learn is the importance ay preparation.
Still, failure, success, what is it? Whae gies a fuck. We aw live, then we die, in quite a short space ay time n аw. That’s it; end ay fuckin story.
Now most people would put this doon tae experience, ye always want what ye cannae have and the things that ye dinnae really gie a toss aboot get handed tae ye oan a plate.
When you hurt some cunt […] it’s you duty to enjoy it, otherwise you’ve done it for fuck all, it means nothing
When I get home I take some sleeping pills and within what seemed like half an hour of unconsciousness it was Monday morning again.
Ah sortay jist laugh whin some cats say that racism’s an English thing and we’re aw Jock Tamson’s bairn up here . . . it’s likesay pure shite man, gadges talkin through their erses.
Ah remember walkin along Princes Street wi Spud, we both hate walkin along that hideous street, deadened by tourists and shoppers, the twin curse ay modern capitalism.
He feels the bleakness crawling into his skull; Franco breaths in steadily, trying to tune in all out, that pressure on your brain, eroding focus, diverting the flow of thought down old ruinous canals…
think young writers should get other degrees first, social sciences, arts degrees or even business degrees. What you learn is research skills, a necessity because a lot of writing is about trying to find information.
The town is mobbed out with Saturday shoppers looking for Christmas bargains. You can almost breathe in the raw greed which hangs in the air like vapour. As the late afternoon darkness falls, the lights look tacky and sinister.
Ah’m thinking about shoutin ‘stop’ but ah could never turn away at this point. If smack is as addictive as they say, then ah’m already aw the junky ah’m ever gaunny be.
Gillman smiles, in the cold manner of an assassin. It’s like looking in the mirror.
take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty, and you’re still fuckin miles off the pace
But even Es and cocaine, over the years they blow holes in your brain, rob you of your memories, your past. Which is fair enough, convenient even.
I was used to heat but this place was so dry the trees were bribing the dogs.
This internal sea. The problem is that this beautiful ocean carries with it loads ay poisonous flotsam and jetsam… that poison is diluted by the sea, but once the ocean rolls out, it leaves the shite behind, inside ma body.
You were what you were and you are what you are. Fuck that regrets bullshit.
I think young writers should get other degrees first, social sciences, arts degrees or even business degrees. What you learn is research skills, a necessity because a lot of writing is about trying to find information.
The ’90s was a decade of mundane market-consumer nothingness where there was nothing coming up from the streets you just had someone in an office deciding what was cool.
When you grow up in a place, you always think it’s mundane. Then you travel around and live in different places, and you realise that you’ve got it the wrong way ’round.
There’s all this stuff that is happening in Edinburgh now, it’s a sad attempt to create an Edinburgh society, similar to a London society, a highbrow literature celebrity society.