“I stared so long that I got to seeing them as being dark, ugly sins in my body, smelling and dirty, but my touch face showed that I didn't give a damn. I was the toughest person in the whole world. And then inside the outline of my body a devil's face slowly took shape. It came to my chest, a dark, ugly thing with big lips that looked hot around yellow pointed teeth, eyeing me in a friednly way, as though it had been feeding on what was inside me and was trying to show how pleased it was.”

“Somehow this is what I wanted to happen. I was holding my ground under attack from my enemies, lashing out at them until they killed me, not giving a damn.”

“I looked across to his picture on the wall, the one that showed him with a pained look on this face, with a bleeding heart painted on his chest. I knew exactly how he felt.”

“What exactly he would say, I couldn't imagine, but I felt sure that as soon as I had actually got everything off my chest, I wouldn't have to worry any more.”

“I've got a lot of ideas about God. I pray about as much as anybody, even though i am tough , yet I'm not too sure I liked God. It seems to me that is he is what they say he is, he has a very funny way of showing it.”

“I lay in my bed for I don't know how long doing my best to work things out, and my best certainly wasn't good enough.”

“the air just went cold, as it did those times before, and started sticking to my skin, on my arms and legs and face, everywhere. I had seen a marble statue in a museum, a well built man doubled over throwing something, and the feeling reminded me of him. It was as if I was starting to be made of marble.”