Needless to say, this whole notion yucked me out and I might have lost it right then and there but Blood was pounding his cane on the floor and waiting for me to join him.

I passed out on the train after drinking a bottle of vodka.

Afternoon delights are especially energetic when done with the right person.

This is the only mention of swastikas, and it's as if Nersesian is making up the rules as he goes along — all too possible with a cipherlike narrator whose memory is shot.