“You know what I do? I steal things. Fuck 'em! I grab a handful of candy bars and six magazines and head for the gate.”

“Well, I guess that in the computer magazines God is more often spelled Gates, but you know what I mean.”

“I know you didn’t. And I know it doesn’t matter what I say now, because I fucked things up…just like I always do.”

“Now that I know you're okay, what bothers me most is your irresponsibility. I have no idea what's gotten into you."I do, she wanted to say. He's around six-two, heavily tattooed and fucks like a god.”

“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?”

“In an ultimate sense I cannot know what I do in this place - yet I do ultimate things. Essentially I cannot know what I do - yet I do essential things. Irreversible, terminal things. I stand in the dark with a pick in my hand, striking at heads! I need - more desperately than my children need me - a way of seeing in the dark.”