“It was a little like Into the Sands, with Claude Barron, which she'd seen a couple of weeks ago. In that picture Claude Barron enlists in the Foreign Legion because Rita Carrol marries another guy. The other guy turns out to be a cheater and drinker, and so Rita Carrol leaves him and travels out to the desert where Claude Barron if fighting the Arabs. By the time Rita Carrol gets there he’s in the hospital, wounded, or not a hospital really but just a tent and she tells him she loves him and Claude Barron says, “I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the color of your hair. The desert sky was the color of your eyes. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn’t be you.” And then he dies. Tessie cried buckets. Her mascara ran, staining the collar of her blouse something awful.”

“I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the color of your hair. The desert sky was the color of your eyes. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't be you.”

“She thinks he's not an animal like Barrons. That he's more civilized. She right, he is more polished. But it only makes him more dangerous. With Barrons you expect to get fucked up royally. With Ryodan you don't see it coming.”

“I always call him Lewis Carroll Carroll, because he was the first Humbert Humbert.”

“Maybe you need to get a grip on your libido, Barrons!"Fuck you, Ms. Lane!"You just try. I‘ll kick the shit out of you!"You think you could?"Bring it on." He grabbed a fistful of my T-shirt, and dragged me up against him until our noses touched.I‘ll bring it on, Ms. Lane. But remember you asked for it. So don‘t even think about trying to tap out on the mat and quit the fight."You hear anybody crying ‗Uncle‘ here, Barrons? I don‘t."Fine."Fine.”

“Let me tell you something. Do you know why those Turkish girls cover their faces? You think it’s because of religion? No. It’s because otherwise no one can stand to look at them!”

“Previously, when I began to write this tale, I set out by saying that Mlle. Claude was a whore. She is a whore, of course, and I'm not trying to deny it, but what I say now is--if Mlle. Claude is a whore then what name shall I find for the other women I know?”