“They call me the Angel of Death.That’s because I ain’t never lost a fight.”

“They call me the Angel of Death.”

“You can trust me, he says.You would say that. How do I know you ain’t lyin?You don’t. But I ain’t.”

“I think of what we might say. Him to me. Me to him. I ain’t no soft girl. I don’t know no soft words. Be with me, Jack. That’s what I’ll say. Burn with me. Shine with me.”

“No, you need to listen, she says. This ain’t Silverlake, an you ain’t the daddy. Out here in the real world, the person who knows what they’re doin is the daddy an right now, that’s me. So. Do like daddy says an shift that tasty butt of yers. Unless, of course, you want it shot off.”

“We like to think we’re in charge of our own lives, but we ain’t.”

“Whatever it is, I sure didn’t go lookin fer it.You don’t hafta, she says. If it’s meant to be, it’ll find you. We like to think we’re in charge of our own lives, but we ain’t. Not really.”