“Last time I really got to know myself it turned out there was a whole gang of bitches in there to deal with. I felt like the receptionist at a rehab center. They all had nice tits though, I gotta say.”

“She walked by and I said, Nice shirt. What I really meant was, Nice tits.”

“Always? I know this sounds totally stupid, but sometimes I really can't see the point in living if I will always have to deal with this crap. I know I will have better times in my life, and I might even make myself into someone important, but if the whole time I have to deal with assholes, then what's the point?”

“Even though it had only been two weeks since I’d seen him last, it felt like months, and sometimes I found myself wondering if our brief time together had been real at all. Yeah, it had been real. I had a heart that was cracked in two as a souvenir of just how real it all was.”

“Poker isn't all about the cards. Poker's mostly about attention. You got a woman whose legs are like yours, tits are like yours, hair is like yours and ass is like yours, all she's gotta do for me is sit there and half the men at the table won't be concentrating on their cards. They'll be thinking about your legs, tits, hair and ass, how much they want 'em and just what they'd do to get 'em.""I appreciate the compliment, Ty, but I don't think I'm all that.""You got a dick?"I felt my mouth twitch.Then I answered, "No.""Trust me”

“For myself, for a long time... maybe I felt inauthentic or something, I felt like my voice wasn't worth hearing, and I think everyone's voice is worth hearing. So if you've got something to say, say it from the rooftops.”