“I once read about a guy who lost his arms in a fire. The nurse took pity on him and gave him a hand job. I don't even get that.”

“I once heard about some millionaire who had a stolen Rembrandt in his basement where no one but him could see it. I could understand that guy. I don't mean that Arnie was a Rembrandt, or even a world-class wit, but I could understand the attraction of knowing about something good ... something that was good but still a secret.”

“On the flight over to Chicago, I thought of a story Mom had once told me from her days as a pediatric nurse. "There was this little boy I was taking care of," she said "and he was terminally ill,and we all knew it,but he kept hanging on and hanging on. He wouldn't die, it was so sad.And his parents were always there with him,giving him so much love and support,but he was in so much pain,and it really was,time for him to go.So finally some of us nurses took his father aside and we told him, 'You have to tell your son it's okay for him to go. You have to give him permission.' And so the father took his son in his arms and he sat with him in a chair and held on to him and told him over and over, that it was okay for him to go,and,well,after a few moments,his son died.”

“When the guy with asthma finally came in from the fire escape, Parker rabbit-punched him and took his gun away.”

“Cricket removes his hand. I blink at him, and he cautiously offers his arm. I hesitate. And then I take it. And then we're so close that I smell him. I smell him. His scent is clean like a bar of soap, but with a sweet hint of mechanical oil. We don't speak as he leads me across the street to the bus stop. I press against him. Just a little. His other arm jumps, and he lowers it. But then he raises it again, slowly, and his hand comes to rest on top of mine. It scorches. The heat carries a message: I care about you. I want to be connected to you. Don't let go.”

“I had just put my arms around him in a hug of gratitude when the door opened behind me without a knock. “Am I interrupting something?” a coolly pissed, accented voice asked. This time, my glance heavenward was in silent challenge. Is that how it is? Fine, then, bring it! Let’s see what you’ve got! Timmie jumped like he’d been stabbed. “Ungh!” I didn’t know what that meant, but the sight of him leaping away with a hand shielding his groin had me turning around in irritation. “Dammit, tell him you’re not going to neuter him!” Bones folded his arms and regarded Timmie without pity. “Why?” I gave him an evil look. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to get really, really celibate.”