“They're selling postcards of the hanging They're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailorsThe circus is in townHere comes the blind commissionerThey've got him in a tranceOne hand is tied to the tight-rope walkerThe other is in his pantsAnd the riot squad they're restlessThey need somewhere to goAs Lady and I look out tonightFrom Desolation Row.”

“Women? Women are like...thunderstorms. They're beautiful to look at, and sometimes they're nice to listen to-but most of the time they're just plain inconvenient.”

“My god, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them? When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those... They're beautiful. You're beautiful.”

“The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing...like molten gold. I could paint those..." He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful." -Bloodlines”

“Torches," Porak ordered."This is dumb," Jig grumbled as one of the others handed out torches. "Why not run ahead and warn any intruders that we're coming? Maybe we should sing, too, in case they're blind.”

“Come on. I know you're not a stupid man.''I'm quite stupid. Ask anyone.''Finbar, are there superheroes living among us?' Finbar snorted with laughter and Kenny started to feel a little thick. 'Superheroes? In tights and capes, flying around? If there were superheroes, Mr. Journalist, don't you think they'd be in New York or somewhere like that? There's not that many tall buildings for Spiderman to swing from in Dublin, you know? He'd have maybe two good swings and then hang there looking disappointed.' 'These people don't wear tights and capes, Finbar.''So they're naked superheroes? That's grand for now, but when the good weather is over they're going to regret it.''They look like us. They dress like us. But they're not like us. They're different.''You,' Finbar said. 'Are sounding very racist right now.”