“Jesus Christ," he muttered to the ceiling. "All those times I sat in the office and laughed my ass off at stories of Lee, Eddie, Hank and Vance. They should have fuckin' medals.”

“I think we should break up,” I told him.“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass,” he muttered and went back to his book.“Seriously, Vance.”“Shut up, Jules,” he said without taking his eyes from his book.”

“I had to soften him up because, for whatever reason, all the Rock Chicks had an alternate Hot Bunch guy, Indy's was Eddie. Roxie's was Vance. Jules was Luke. Ava's was Lee. Mine was Mace.”

“Those in the West who have adopted Christ as their own should remember that he was an Oriental. Love and sympathy for Jesus should be expanded into love and sympathy for all Orientals, and for all the world.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ on a fuckin’ pushbike.”

“Dad?" "Yeah?" "She the reason you’re pissed off all the time?" "Yeah." "She the reason you left mom?" "Yeah." "You love her?" "Yeah." There was a long pause. "Cool." "…yeah." "Dad?" "Jesus, Cage.  What?" "Does this mean I can have at Miranda?" Christ. "Yeah, you fuckin' hornball.  Have at it." "Cool.”