“Orafoura doesn’t know shit about what I said, said Orafoura, quoting The Mythical Mr. Boo to me about the shit that’s been said about him.”

“As we were walking home the other night, Orafoura turned to me and said, “Were you aware that there are places in the universe where time doesn’t exist?”“I know,” I replied. “That’s where I went to buy my last watch.”

“You don't know shit about me, I don't know shit about you. You don't even know shit about you.”

“Who gives a shit what everyone thinks?” he said. I see now that this has long been some sort of mantra for him. I've never been that free. I want to be, and sometimes I pretend to be, but I’m not. I’m forever chained to giving a shit about what someone thinks.”

“As a way for both of us to make money, I’ll hold you hostage, while at the same time, you’ll be holding me hostage,” I said to Orafoura.
“Won’t the ransom money you pay to me cancel out the money I’ll pay to you?” Orafoura said. 
“Not if I shoot you first. Then I’ll have all the ransom money!”

“Don't you get that yet? You don't know shit about me, I don't know shit about you. You don't even know shit about you.”