Ms. Smartarse’s Reviews > Perdido Street Station > Status Update

The dancing mad god moved through the room with a savage alien step. It gathered us to it - we renegades, we criminals. We refugees. Constructs that tell tales; earthbound garuda; reporters who make news; criminal scientists and scientific criminals. The dancing mad god collected us all like errant worshippers, chiding us for going astray.

The winged thing let its tongue dangle as it slowly beat the air. It used it as a bloodhound would its nose. it passed over the undulation roofscape that seemed buckled by the Ribs. It licked its way along a faint trail.

'You're still not looking the right way. At all. It's a wonder you can create such art. You still see this - ,' he gesticulated vaguely at his own body with a monkey's paw ' - as pathology. You're still interested in what was and how it went wrong. This is not error or absence or mutancy: this is image and essence...'

Employment contracts be like:
"A man in my position has to be careful. I'm sure you can understand. If you take this commission I will make you rich, but I will also own a part of your mind. The part that pertains to me. That is mine. I do not give you permission to share it with any. If you do, you will suffer greatly before you die."