“Do not get yourself arrested, you hear?” she urged. “I am not going to bail your butt out of jail, mister.”“Now who's goin' all old geezer, huh?” He snorted. “I'm gonna get drunk and pass out on my bed at home. Haven't done that for so long I can't remember.”“Probably a reason for that, Beck. You're killing brain cells, and you don't have that many to spare.”

“I am not him, Kia. Your dead husband... was an asshole. And now he's gone. You're in bed with me... I'm here because I wanna be here... and when we're done talkin' about that asshole and he's gone again, I'm gonna get you wet and hot for me and I'm gonna be in you because I wanna be in you...There are not many men who would not kill [to be here] and that man is now me and and he's gonna be me for a good long time.”

“If you’re determined to commit suicide, you’ll blow your brains out or you’ll jump off a tall building. You’ll do something that you can’t take back, in other words. When you ‘try to kill yourself’ by taking too many pills – like I did – you know you’re probably gonna get found by someone. So all you’re doing is sending a message.”

“You're the reason I get out of bed every night. And you're the reason I can't wait to come home every dawn. Not the war. Not the Brothers. Not even Butch. It's...you.”

“When did you get so smart?"He tapped his forehead. "Brain transplant. They put in a whale's. I'm passing all my classes with my eyes closed now, but I just can't get over this craving for krill." He shrugged. "And I feel sorry for the whale that got my brain. Probably swimming around Florida now trying to catch glimpses of girls in bikinis.”

“I'm a substitute mom.""You're more like a crazy aunt who only gets called when somebody needs bailing out of jail.”