“It was like when we were little kids and we played games on the ivy-covered hillside in the backyard. We were warriors and wizards and angels and high elves and that was our reality. If someone said, Isn’t it cute, look at them playing, we would have smiled back, humoring them, but it wasn’t playing. It was transformation. It was our own world. Our own rules.”

“I realized then that it was a game we were playing; from the very beginning. But we weren’t playing the same game and when it came down to it, he wasn’t playing by the rules.”

“We stay in the game so that we can provide for our family. That's the smart thing to do. The problem arises when the game is being played with rules the rest of the world doesn't understand. The mortgage business, for example. Everybody in the business knew the rules. Everyone was playing by them. Problem was, the little guy on Main Street didn't, so the little guy got burned.”

“When Renee and I talked about it years later, we agreed on one point: We were insane. Renee always said, "If any of our kids want to get married when they're twenty-five, we'll have to lock them in the attic." We were just kids, and everybody who came to the wedding party was guilty of shameful if not criminal negligence-- look at the shiny pretty toaster, isn't it cute to see the babies playing with it in the bathtub? Jesus, people!”

“We play very dangerous games with life and no one knows our rules.”

“Society is like this card game here, cousin. We got dealt our hand before we were even born, and as we grow we have to play as best as we can.”