“What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.”

“All I want is somebody to ask me what happened. Then, I’ll get on with my life.”

“Help me give up my addiction to Hope.”

“I'm giving you my life to prove to myself I can, I really can love somebody. Even when I'm not getting paid, I can give love and happiness and charm. You see, I can handle the baby food and the not talking and being homeless and invisible, but I have to know that I can love somebody. Completely and totally, permanently and without hope of reward, just as an act of will, I will love somebody.”

“But I don't want to go back. Not yet.Just because.Because every once in a while, somebody brings me my lunch tray and my meds and he has a black eye or his forehead is swollen with stitches, and he says:"We miss you Mr. Durden."Or somebody with a broken nose pushes a mop past me and whispers:"Everything's going according to the plan.Whispers"We're going to break up civilization so we can make something better out of the world."Whispers"We look forward to getting you back.”

“No one wants to admit we're addicted to music. That's just not possible. No one's addicted to music and television and radio. We just need more of it, more channels, a larger screen, more volume. We can't bear to be without it, but no, nobody's addicted. We could turn it off anytime we wanted. I fit a window frame into a brick wall. With a little brush, the size for fingernail polish, I glue it. The window is the size of a fingernail. The glue smells like hair spray. The smell tastes like oranges and gasoline.”

“I just want one person I can rescue and I want one person who needs me. Who can't live without me. I want to be a hero, but not just one time.”