“His suit smelled of cigarettes and Breznev”

“...the unmistakable smell of poverty, a mixture of cigarette smoke, weed, stale sweat, and fried food.”

“I wrinkled my nose, trying to figure out what he smelled like. Not cigarettes. Something richer, fouler.Cigars.”

“It was agreeable to her, the smell of tobacco. It was part of her knowledge of his body. It was the aura of the man, a residue of smoke and unbroken habit, a dimension in the night, and she lapped it off the curled gray hairs on his chest and tasted it in his mouth. It was who he was in the dark, cigarettes and mumbled sleep and a hundred other things nameable and not.”

“He threw his burning cigarette onto our clean living room floor and ground it into the wood with his boot.We were about to become cigarettes.”

“He is happy whose circumstances suit his temper, but he is more excellent who can suit his temper to his circumstance.”