“You can keep a piece of candy in its wrapper for up to twenty years. After that, it turns into a hideous black goo.”

“Are you out of your candy wrapper?”

“If I took a candy bar, ripped off the wrapper, ate the candy bar, and pinned the wrapper to the wall, is that art, performance art, both, or neither?”

“Whatever soul I had, Katie, I think I placed it in your keeping twenty years ago. And now, it's as if...every time we kiss, you give a little piece of it back.”

“Black magic never stops. What goes from you comes to you. Once you start this shit, you gotta keep it up. Just like the utility bill. Just like the grocery store. Or they kill you. You got to keep it up. Two, five, ten, twenty years.”

“Printer's ink has been running a race against gunpowder these many, many years. Ink is handicapped, in a way, because you can blow up a man with gunpowder in half a second, while it may take twenty years to blow him up with a book. But the gunpowder destroys itself along with its victim, while a book can keep on exploding for centuries.”