“The enforcer takes an envelope from his side jacket pocket and drops it in one of the scummy puddles.I look at Predo.“You rehearse that move in advance?He shrugs.“Actually, not. This one has initiative.”

“Every man carries within him through life a mirror, as unique and impossible to get rid of as his shadow.A parlor game for a wet afternoon – imaging the mirrors of one’s friends. A has a huge pier glass, gilded and baroque, B a discreet little pocket mirror in a pigskin case with his initials stamped on the back; whenever one looks at C, he is in the act of throwing his mirror away but, if one looks in his pocket or up his sleeve, one always finds another, like an extra ace.”

“Alex shrugged out of his jacket and slung it onto the bed.When he reached for mine, I tried to remember if I'd taken the tampon out of the pocket. I could just imagine it winging across the room.But Alex hung the jacket carefully over the back of the chair.”

“We find that one person in life that will stand by us through everything, support us, love us regardless of yourself. That one person that will stand by your side through everything. Grab onto that person with everything for if you don't then one day you will look to your side expecting him to be there and you will find that he is not. So don't take the one for granted that makes you his life. If you do then he will remove you from his...”

“The artist is a collector of things imaginary or real. He accumulates things with the same enthusiasm that a little boy stuffs his pockets. The scrap heap and the museum are embraced with equal curiosity. He takes snapshots, makes notes and records impressions on tablecloths or newspapers, on backs of envelopes or matchbooks. Why one thing and not another is part of the mystery, but he is omnivorous.”

“Beckett moved quickly. In one motion he snagged the pen out of Kim’s scrub pocket, stepped back, and stabbed his forearm. The ballpoint produced an instant stream of blood.“Here, take mine,” he begged. “I’ve got plenty of blood.”