“Some's bastards, some's ain't.That's the score.”

“You’d never care to plant some roots insociety, I suppose,” mused the other.”

“Some of my most neurotically fierce bitterness is the result of realizing how untrue people have become.”

“I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.”

“LA is the loneliest and most brutal of American cities; NY gets god-awful cold in the winter but there's a feeling of wacky comradeship somewhere in some streets. LA is a jungle.”

“Ah, life is a gate, a way, a path to Paradise anyway, why not live for fun and joy and love or some sort of girl by a fireside, why not go to your desire and LAUGH...”

“Something, someone, some spirit was pursuing all of us across the desert of life and was bound to catch us before we reached heaven. Naturally, now that I look back on it, this is only death: death will overtake us before heaven. The one thing that we yearn for in our living days, that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death.”