“He looked okay. No, to be honest. He looked a lot better than okay. He looked...fine. Fine, as in get the Chiffons over here to sing a chorus.”

“She didn‟t look like the athletic type to me.” “Maybe Nemov carried her. He looked like he could.” “He looked like he could carry his SUV. I don‟t know why he didn‟t.”

“...Jake, a homosexual cop buried so deep in the closet he didn't know where to look for himself.”

“I thought I recognized you."Really? He remembered me looking like Swamp Thing? How flattering.”

“Have I ever told you, you look like Monty Clift? he inquired in a deep, seductive voice.Before or after the accident?”

“We ate in the dining room alcove looking over the hillside and the silent dark rooftops of my neighbors. The lights of the valley glittered below.We were both tired but we smiled at each other, and I felt a kind of happiness growing inside me. It was good to look across the table and see someone, and I thought maybe it was time to start thinking about that again—about finding someone. Sharing my life maybe.Or maybe just getting more friends around. Except when I pictured the friends I wanted around, they all looked like Dan, and when I thought about trying to find someone to share my life with, he too looked a little too much like Dan for comfort.”

“Look, Paul. I appreciate what you’re telling me, but I gave Jake my word. Not to mention the fact, he’d throw my ass in jail if he found out I tried to go around him.”“He wouldn’t, you know,” he said. “Jake’s a pussycat.”Yeah, just a big old saber-toothed tiger.”