“Manhandeling a lady was asking for trouble pretty much anywhere, but square in the middle of cowboy-central, it was close to suicidal.”

“A cowboy doesn't ask for much, that's my observation. A flashy ride, a pretty girl, momentary glory...”

“There was a species of middle pretty who smiled at everything: happy smile, disappointed smile, you're-in-trouble smile.”

“A middle-aged woman who looked like someone's cleaning lady, a shrieking adolescent lunatic and a talkshow host with an orange face... It didn't add up. Suicide wasn't invented for people like this. It was invented for people like Virginia Woolf and Nick Drake. And Me. Suicide was supposed to be cool.”

“Didn't this beat everything? A pretty and an ugly taking a stroll together. The warden came closer, confusion all over his middle-pretty face. Tally smiled. At least she was causing trouble to the end. "I'm Tally Youngblood," she said. "Make me pretty.”

“It was the kind of place you went when your earthly troubles became too much for you and you were looking for a creative way to commit suicide.”