“My eyes locked the fury's and I smiled.She hesitated.I snapped to my feet. "Bitch, please.”

“I snapped my lips shut againt the yes that was about to come out. Could I hit Reth? Could I please, please just ht him?”

“Oh, please, please, no!' I begged, jumping to my feet. 'Please tell me you are not trying to have a sex talk with me, Charlie.”

“Ranger locked eyes with me. "Please," he said.Tank and Hal were goggle-eyed. They weren't used to "please." I wasn't used to it either. But I liked it. Okay," I said. "Be careful. He's insane.”

“When I burn please bury me deepSomewhere on West Division StreetPut a bottle beneat' my head'n a bottle beneat' my feet”

“I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.Inaction, no falsifying dreamBetween my hooked head and hooked feet:Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.The convenience of the high trees!The air's buoyancy and the sun's rayAre of advantage to me;And the earth's face upward for my inspection.My feet are locked upon the rough bark.It took the whole of CreationTo produce my foot, my each feather:Now I hold Creation in my footOr fly up, and revolve it all slowly -I kill where I please because it is all mine.There is no sophistry in my body:My manners are tearing off heads -The allotment of death.For the one path of my flight is directThrough the bones of the living.No arguments assert my right:The sun is behind me.Nothing has changed since I began.My eye has permitted no change.I am going to keep things like this.”