“How long should a dragon of my stature be expected to survive without a warm, willing pussy at my disposal?”

“That's how I survived. Time and time again. That's my secret. I survived because I willed it to be. ... How did I survive apocalyptic fire? I simply refused to feel the flames.”

“To quote my daddy, don’t be such a pussy.” “But I am a pussy.”

“Had I forgotten how to cry? Was that possible? In order to survive, I had long since buried my emotions.”

“How disposable is a woman's life? How expected. How unsurprising. How normal. How many times a week, a month, a year does that happen?”

“They should not clench their fists,it’s my longing that’s drawing me near to them;they should not stand there full of rage,my longing is timidly drawing near to them;they should not be ready to pounce like vicious dogs,as if they wanted to tear my longing to shreds;they should not threaten with broad sleeves,that pains my longing.Why have they suddenly changed?As great and deep is my longing.No matter how difficult, no matter how menacing:I must reach them and I’m already there.”