“Is that why you do good deeds, Richie? To shorten your time in Purgatory?' 'Oh, honey,' he said, brushing lint from an orange sleeve. 'I'm going to hell. That's where the action is.”

“Oh no. Hell no. I'm not asking Ma for one of her bras. That's just...wrong."... "Your woman. You do it."..." You go. We'll pay for your therapy later.”

“You and I are walking in the snow. "Why are you walking backwards?" I ask. You point in the direction we came from. "So they'll think that's where I'm going." You point to where we're going. "And that's where I'm from.”

“He can't hear you." Alex sighs. "You aren't the sharpest sheep in the barn, are you?""That's not even the right metaphor," I snap, my attention still focused on Richie. "It's the sharpest pencil in the box.""Right." Alex nods. "Except you are a sheep. I'm not stupid, I just adjusted the metaphor to fit your persona-""Oh, shut up. Richie!" I scream again. Alex shakes his head.”

“I don't care where I'm from. Nor where I'm going. From hell to hell.”

“What's your job?" He looked blank. "I've forgotten...""I'm a writer. A novelist.""Maybe that explains why you were going to hell," Raziel said in a wry voice.”