“Must've been off my head, wandering around the harbour so long. Didn't even get the nightgowns. Are the kids okay? Damn, I wish I didn't always have to be home at the right time. At the Day of Judgement, God will say Stacy MacAindra, what have you done with your life? And I'll say, Well, let's see, Sir, I think I loved my kids. And He'll say, Are you certain of that? And I'll say, God, I'm not certain about anything any more. So He'll say, To hell with you, then. We're all positive thinkers up here. Then again, maybe He wouldn't. Maybe He'd say, Don't worry, Stacy, I'm not all that certain, either. Sometimes I wonder if I even exist. And I'd say, I know what you mean, Lord. I have the same trouble with myself.”

“Just cuz yer going there and I'm staying here," I say. "It don't mean we're parting.""No," she says and I know she understands. "No, it certainly doesn't.""I ain't parting from you again," I say, still looking at our fingers. "Not even in my head.”

“I don't know what I'm saying, really, but I guess it's like having a kid, though I don't have any kids. It's yours, you made it, and no matter what happens, you have that pride of ownership. You love it, even it it didn't amount to much.”

“But we're not sleeping," he points out."well, I would be," I say, "if you would let me off the phone." Which is obviously a lie."Fine," he says."Fine," I say."Wait!""What now?!""Court?"I don't say anything."Are you there?""Yes, I'm here," I say, "What is it?""I love you." And then he hangs up the phone.”

“WHAT? Maybe you didn't hear exactly how big my plans are? Big enough to be PRESIDENT president!" I'll say.But that's my job!" he'll say.Look, are you a naysayer?" I'll say.Do you say 'NAY'? I say." Uh . . . no?" he'll say.Then it's settled," I'll say. You're third in charge, reporting directly to the mynah bird!”

“Says O'Sullivan to me, "Mr. Fay, I'll have a word wid yeh?" "Certainly," says I; "what can I do for you?" "Sell me your sea- boots, Mr. Fay," says O'Sullivan, polite as can be. "But what will you be wantin' of them?" says I. "'Twill be a great favour," says O'Sullivan. "But it's my only pair," says I; "and you have a pair of your own," says I. "Mr. Fay, I'll be needin' me own in bad weather," says O'Sullivan. "Besides," says I, "you have no money." "I'll pay for them when we pay off in Seattle," says O'Sullivan. "I'll not do it," says I; "besides, you're not tellin' me what you'll be doin' with them." "But I will tell yeh," says O'Sullivan; "I'm wantin' to throw 'em over the side." And with that I turns to walk away, but O'Sullivan says, very polite and seducin'-like, still a-stroppin' the razor, "Mr. Fay," says he, "will you kindly step this way an' have your throat cut?" And with that I knew my life was in danger, and I have come to make report to you, sir, that the man is a violent lunatic.”