“The wrecked mess of flesh had to hurt like hell and I was just starting to feel a little sympathy for Kujima when some distant corner of my brain sent me a reminder that he’d shot me, beaten me and was about to light me on fire.”

“Nothing so precious as memory, nothing so useless.”

“all night he talks and holds me, all night he loves me slow and careful.”

“Just... ate," M says, frowning at me a little. "Two days...ago."I grab my stomach again. "Feel empty. Feel... dead."He nods. "Marr...iage.”

“She hugs me. It's tentative at first, a little scared, and yes, a little repulsed, but then she melts into it. She rests her head against my cold neck and embraces me. Unable to believer what's happening, I put my arm around her and just hold her.I almost swear I can feel my heart thumping. But it must just be hers, pressed tightly against my chest.”

“I hate that she's hurt. I hate that she's been hurt, by me and by others, throughout the entire arc of her life. I barely remember pain, but when I see it in her I feel it in myself, in disproportionate measure. it creeps into my eyes, stinging, burning.”

“Once, when a religionist denounced me in unmeasured terms, I sent him a card saying, "I am sure you believe that I will go to hell when I die, and that once there I will suffer all the pains and tortures the sadistic ingenuity of your deity can devise and that this torture will continue forever. Isn't that enough for you? Do you have to call me bad names in addition?”