“Down the Peninsula at Cypress Lawn Cemetery, a woman in a paisley turban climbed out of a battered automobile and trudged up the hillside to a new grave.She stood there for a moment, humming to herself, then removed a joint from a tortoise-shell cigarette case and laid it gently on the grave."Have fun," she smiled. "It's Colombian.”

“Oh, Mona, we're all damned fools! Some of us just have more fun with it than others. Loosen up, dear! Don't be so afraid to cry . . . or laugh, for that matter. Laugh all you want and cry all you want and whistle at pretty men in the street and to hell with anybody who thinks you're a damned fool!”

“Like I've always said, love wouldn't be blind if the braille weren't so damned much fun.”

“If I had my way...We would lock ourselves away from that madness out there...”

“Pete thinks we all have a blacking factory: some awful moment, early on, when we surrender our childish hearts as surely as we lose our baby teeth.”

“What about San Francisco?""What about it?""Did you like it?"She shrugged. "It was O.K.""Just O.K.?"She laughed. "Good God!""What?""You're all alike here.""How so?" he asked."You demand adoration for the place. You're not happy until everybody swears undying love for every nook and cranny of every precious damn --""Whoa, missy.""Well, it's true. Can't you just worship it on your own? Do I have to sign an affadavit?"He chuckled. "We're that bad, are we?""You bet your ass you are.”

“She told me about the cop. And the movie star, and the construction worker. You're not having a life Michael, you're fucking the Village People one at a time”