“F**k them is what I say. I hate those ebooks. They can not be the future. They may well be. I will be dead. I won't give a s**t.”

“And try as I might, I am having difficulty giving a f**k.”

“Money is nice. I don´t mean it´s wonderful like a river or anything; and, as they say, it can´t buy happiness, but it´s comfortable in your pockets”

“The Product of Freedom and Security is a constant (F X S = k). Giving up freedom for security is beginning to look naive.”

“Well, what, what new thing can they say to me that I don't know myself? And is that the point? The point here is that--one turn of the wheel, and everything changes, and these same moralizers will be the first (I'm sure of it) to come with friendly jokes to congratulate me. And they won't all turn away from me as they do now. Spit on them all! What am I now? Zéro. What may I be tomorrow? Tomorrow I may rise from the dead and begin to live anew! I may find the man in me before he's lost!”

“You have two choices,” Vance said. I stopped in the doorway to the hall and put my hands on my hips. “And those would be?” I asked.“We can talk or we can f**k.”My eyes rounded. Then they narrowed. I didn’t answer.“Though,” he went on, “I should tell you even if you pick talking, after we’re done, we’re still gonna f**k.”I frowned at him and leaned in. “You are too much,” I snapped.He ignored my threatening posture. “You don’t chose, I will, and I’ll pick f**king. We can talk after.”