“Evangeline," he sighed. "It ain't ever goan to be easy with you, is it?”
“He was staring at my lips, and before I could think better of it, I’d wetted them. “That’s it, bébé,” he said in a coaxing rasp. “Ma bonne fille.” My good girl. He wrapped one of his arms behind my back, cupping my chin with his free hand. “Evangeline, I’m goan to kiss you until your toes curl, until we’re breathing for each other.” That was the promise. . . .”
“But it ain't easy, trying to do without God even if you know he ain't there, trying to do without him is a strain”
“I hear they feed you in Sing Sing,” Evie muttered. “Three squares a day.” “Evangeline,” Will said with a sigh. “Charity begins at home.” “So does mental illness.”
“Pimping ain't easy”
“This is the way to the museyroom. Mind your boots goan out.”