“Vat have you been up to, Governor?' Skip asked with an Arnold Swarzenegger accent.The relentless pursuit of crime,' John said. He pronounced crime with a long southern drawl and a wink. Then he burst into laugher with the rest of them.Seeing him jogging at the park had cracked a window so I could peek into his soul. Seeing him with his friends threw the window wide open.He was so nineteen.”

“I paused in the act of opening the door and looked at him with what were probably cartoon-wide eyes. "Wait a second," I said. "So, you're best friends with a hot vampire chick who likes leather.""Yeah.""And together, you fight crime?" I couldn't help it. I cracked up.”

“Only a friend or a giraffe would stick his neck out for you. But only a giraffe would eat all the leaves off your tree so he could peek in your second story bedroom window.”

“And when he got through I felt for the first time that there had really been a war and that the man I was listening to had been in it and that despite his bravery the war had made him a coward and that if he did any more killing it would be wide-awake and in cold blood, and nobody would have the guts to send him to the electric chair because he had performed his duty toward his fellow men, which was to deny his own sacred instincts and so everything was just and fair because one crime washes away the other in the name of God, country and humanity, peace be with you all.”

“I couldn't believe his arrogance. I turned away hoping to ignore him enough so he'd just leave."Just give me five minutes," came Flynn's muffled voice through the closed window.I ignored him. He'd caused me way too much trouble."Mercy, just crack the window so we can talk."I did and immediately said, "You are a solipsistic obdurate asshole." Then I rolled the window back up to continue to ignore him."What the hell? You and these words," he muttered loud enough they came clearly through the closed window.”

“He fell back. He had cried out so loud that even if there had been no breach in the wall, I should have heard him in my room. He voiced his whole dream, he threw it out passionately. This sincerity, which was indifferent to everything, had a definite significance which bruised my heart."Forgive me. Forgive me. It is almost a blasphemy. I could not help it."He stopped. You felt his will-power making his face calm, his soul compelling him to silence, but his eyes seem to mourn.”