“When I hug her, I notice she's still wearing yesterday's false eyelashes.Mom? You know those come off with a little makeup remover and a cotton pad?"I'm not taking them off."Why not?"I spent $180 on that makeup job and I refuse to wash my face until I get my money's worth.”

“I send a silent thank-you to Dalton for suggesting I wash off the makeup. How ridiculous, how perverse I would feel presenting that painted Capitol mask to these people. The damage, the fatigue, the imperfections. That's how they recognize me, why I belong to them.”

“Until today, it really pissed me off that I'd become this totally centered Zen Master and nobody had noticed. Still, I'm doing the little FAX thing. I write little HAIKU things and FAX them around to everyone. When I pass people in the hall at work, I get totally ZEN right in everyone's hostile little FACE.”

“I have terrible nightmares, you know. Every night when I come home from a long day’s dying, I take off my skin and lay it nicely on my armoire. I take off my bones and hang them up on the hatstand. I set my scythe to washing on the old stove. I eat a nice supper of mouse-and-myrrh soup. Some nights I drink off a nice red wine. White does not agree with me. I lay myself down on a bed of lilies and still, I cannot sleep.”

“Still I pulled her into a hug, because I knew she let me off the hook on purpose and yeah, I'm a guy and I love my mom. So shoot me. I'm man enough to hug her without feeling like a mama's boy.”

“I'll give you some credit," he said with a sneer. "You don’t look like a prostitute.”Austin shrugged. “I don’t usually wear the fishnets and garish makeup on my day off.”