“The power of a red dress.”

“She's packed her topside fundamentals so tight into her low-cut dress that it's only a matter of time before she busts her banks.”

“Thing is, he says, in my line of work, you spend a lot of time sittin. A dress lets the breeze up...cool yer dingles down. There's a lot to be said fer a skirt.”

“Jack grins. Anyways, Saba likes to look at my bare chest.Lugh looks at me. Frowns. Is that a fact? he says.I feel myself go bright red. It is not a fact, I says. You stinker, Jack.”

“Oh, don't sit there blushin, he says, git on with it. Life's too short. Take her off in the bushes, my friend, an make her yer own. If you don't, somebody else will. Hell, I might jest make a play fer her myself. That 'ud put a rocket in yer pocket. Ha ha! How's about it, Red? You an me?”

“Feeling sorrow is fine, he says. It's right. But you need to use those feelings, channel them into action. Just as you did with your brother. You have such strength, such courage, such power within you.”

“Jack lifts his mug. Me an Ike do the same.To Molly Pratt, says Jack.Ike scowls at him. Watch yer mouth, he says.Jeez, Ike, says Jack. All I’m sayin is … to Molly Pratt.Ike looks sly. Leans in an waggles his eyebrows. To Molly Pratt, he says, an her frilly red bloomers.One helluva woman, says Jack.One helluva pair of undies, says Ike.Then they throw their drinks down their necks.”