He didn't shout or scream. He seldom did. His hoarse whisper said it all. His eyes it all. His eyes were bloodshot and he was breathing hard through his nose, like a boxer psyching himself up for a bout.
"You've changed brands of mouthwash," I said. "I think I like the old one better."
- Amos Walker, in The Midnight Man by Loren D. Estleman