“When are you gonna wake up and strengthened the things that remain.”

“You can sleep with a gun, but when you gonna wake up and fight for yourself?”

“The very things that held you down are gonna carry you up and up and up.”

“I used to be in school, like a good boy. Medieval Literature. Von Eschenbach, Chaucer, Milton... Yes, sir, no, sir. Then I had that... Crisis. You know it? Wake up one morning and everything's all wrong? Wake up one morning and it occurs to you the milk's spoiled and the bread is getting moldy. Wake up and it just hits you. Someday you're gonna die. Maybe like that girl last night died. Face down in an alley with a caved in head. Such a terrible thing and what for? Why life? Why This life? Why This soap? Why these hands? What's it all mean? Deep down you fear nothing. But you still hope something. Either way, you're not really sure. That's my crisis. I don't wanna die. But if I'm gonna die, first I'm gonna live. I'm gonna peel life like fruit, and use it up. I'm gonna light up an' burn. I'll burn and burn until I'm snuffed out. Then I'll just fade away. But until then I'm gonna live! I'm ready. I'm gonna do it. Come what may, one hundred percent.”

“One day, you and I are gonna wake up and be alright. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but one day. One day. I promise you.”

“He saved me. He freaking electrocuted himself to save me. I’m gonna be there when he wakes up so I can tell him thanks.”