“Whether I’m working a street corner or a market stall, well, that’s none of their business unless they’re buying. The anonymity is comfortable, like going around draped in magic, hidden from view.”

“Silence hung around the corners, draped like spider webs across all surfaces and hanging like smog in the air.”

“you gotta think it’s a waste of—” “Ray!” I glanced around, but there was nobody within earshot. “Well, excuse me if I’m not used to buying condoms for aliens,” he said more softly. “They’re not aliens.” “Well, they’re not human. I mean, they could have anything under those tunics, you know?”

“It’s good to be with someone when you know you matter. Not assume,” she qualified, “but know. To be with someone, who even when you don’t think you want or need it, will stand up for you. Someone who sends you flowers and buys you magic wands. I’m not going to look around the corner for what’s next.”

“I have always derived great comfort from William Shakespeare. After a depressing visit to the mirror or an unkind word from a girlfriend or an incredulous stare in the street, I say to myself: 'Well. Shakespeare looked like shit.' It works wonders.”

“To work, Sissy. To. Work. Not to start shit. Not to race. Not to gamble. And definitely not to get arrested or turn all of Japan against you. Remember, I’m not stationed right around the corner like before.”