“I got out of the elevator and confronted Mr. Wexler. “Killing is wrong.” “We kill chickens,” Mr. Wexler said. “We kill cows. We kill trees. So big deal, we kill some drug dealers.”It was hard to argue with that kind of logic because I like cows and chickens and trees much better than drug dealers.”

“You named the chicken, Chicken?" She looked embarrassed. "When we decided not to kill it, I got attached.”

“As we walked back to the car, Johnny said, "A tree's one thing, but it's a big deal when you point a gun at someone. Basically, you're giving them permission to kill you.”

“Why do we kill people who kill people to show that killing people is wrong?”

“The bank, Mr. Van Buren, is trying to kill me, but I will kill it.”

“When you get beef from the butcher, you don’t feel bad for the cow that has been killed. But if someone asked you to wield a knife and kill the cow yourself, you wouldn’t be able to do it.”“Are you saying that you are a cow?”“Exactly.”“What?”“You found me alive and couldn’t bring yourself to kill me. It would have been alright if the storm had finished me off. I am like that cow and the storm is the butcher. Do you see now?”“Yes, I see. You absolutely insist that you are a cow. I am not arguing.”