“There's always a bloody ghost.”

“Love? Sodding, bloody, tossing, bloody, sodding, bloody love? Irrelevant, superfluous, bloody, ruddy, rotten, sodding love? What ho? Wherefore? What the f*ck? Love?”

“Of course they won't bloody remember, they'll be dead.' Then she called him a name in a dead language that translated, roughly, to 'poop on a stick,' but sounded more succinct, like this: 'Of course they won't bloody remember, they'll be dead, Poopstick.”

“There's something out on the wing.Sir I can assure you that--Fuck, there's something out on the wing.Told you.”

“There's a fine edge to new grief, it severs nerves, disconnects reality--there's mercy in a sharp blade. Only with time, as the edge wears, does the real ache begin.”

“There's some heinous fuckery goin' on mon.”

“We know there's going to be nothing but pain, but we go back again and again.”