“We both like Marlboro Reds, both eat pastrami and Swiss, and both have holes in our hearts big enough to swallow us whole. What the fuck?”

“How do I soothe his ache when mine was a big gaping hole large enough for both of us to fit in?”

“Probably, no nation is rich enough to pay for both war and civilization. We must make our choice; we cannot have both.”

“What a place. Glokta stifled a smile. It reminds me of myself, in a way. We both were magnificent once, and we both have our best days far behind us.”

“What I want is for both of us to feel safe. What you and I have together shouldn't be draining us like this. It should be the one rock-solid thing we both count on.”

“And we hate this possibility in movies; we hate this "both" shit. "Both" comes off as sloppy characterization, muddy filmmaking, lack of focus. ... But I submit that the real reason we criticized and disliked Lynch's Laura's muddy bothness is that it required of us an empathetic confrontation with the exact same muddy bothness in ourselves and our intimates that makes the real world of moral selves so tense and uncomfortable, a bothness we go to the movies to get a couple hours' fucking relief from.”