“And it was that self-same summer—June 5th, if precision is your watchword—that I first set eyes on a stringy southern hemisphere home-boy, a man-boy, a prankish puck by the name of La Roux (with very bad skin and even worse instincts), who sailed into the slow-beating heart of our half-arsed, high-strung, low-bred family, then casually capsized himself, but left us all drowning (now they don’t teach you that at the Sea Scouts, do they?).”

“You think it's all rather too "New Age" to be taken seriously, eh?''Not at all.''But it's an ancient discipline...''New Age disciplines invariably are,' Beede said, disparagingly, 'but in the modern world they lack context - we just pick them up and then toss them back down again, we consume them. They have no moral claim on us. No moral value. And without that they're rendered meaningless, fatuous, even.”

“The trigger has been squeezed, the deathly mechanism has been enabled, the fatal course of a bullet has been set. No amount of bleating or praying or wailing of cajoling can halt it or stall it or call it back.”

“I dreamed I saw you dead in a place by the water. A ravaged place. All flat and empty and wide open. And you were covered in some kind of binding. Like a mummy. Something white and reflective, from head to toe. And the light shone on you. Oh, how it shone on you! It glanced off you, and it was like a pure, bright silver. The wind was singing. It sang: you have suffered enough. You have suffered enough. Then death came and he kissed you. Lightly. Gently. Upon the lips. There is nothing beyond, he whispered, only me, only me. There is nothing beyond. Only me.”

“Tattoos are a right of passage. They're a marker of bravery, of maturity, of cultural acceptance. The tattoo represents not only a willingness to accept pain - to endure it - but a need to actively embrace it. Because life is painful - beautiful but painful.......”

“His lips met mine again, this time in a slow, soft caress, conveying everything he had just said in those beautiful words that had reached my very soul. I could have drowned in that kiss. I could have lived there for eternity. It filled me up with everything I needed to survive. He gave me life through his lips and I treasured it.”

“Last WillPrologue:We, Sacco and Vanzetti, sound of body and mind,Devise and bequeath to all we leave behind,The worldly wealth we inherited at our birth,Each one to share alike as we leave this earth.To Wit:To babies we will their mothers’ love,To youngsters we will the sun above.To spooners who wont to tryst the night,We give the moon and stars that shine so bright.To thrill them in their hours of joy,When boy hugs maid and maid hugs boy.To nature’s creatures we allot the spring and summer,To the doe, the bear, the gold-finch and the hummer.To the fishes we ascribe the deep blue sea,The honey we apportion to the bustling bee.To the pessimist—good cheer—his mind to sooth,To the chronic liar we donate the solemn truth.And Lastly:To those who judge solely seeking renown,With blaring trumpets of the fakir and clown;To the prosecutor, persecutor, and other human hounds,Who’d barter another’s honor, recognizing no bounds,To the Governor, the Jury, who another’s life they’d sell—We endow them with the fiery depths of HELL!(Industrial Worker, Aug. 20, 1927)”