“...and if somehow my conduct ain't all your fancy paints, why single men in barracks don't grow into plaster saints.. From 'Tommy”
“My skin cleared up! I don't have a single zit." -TommyDing, ding, ding," Jody onomatopeed, signaling that Tommy had hit on the correct answer.”
“I'm watching her talk. Watching her jaw move and collecting her words one by one as they spill from her lips. I don't deserve them. Her warm memories. I'd like to paint them over the bare plaster walls of my soul, but everything I paint seems to peel.”
“Her warm memories. I'd like to paint them over the bare plaster walls of my soul, but everything I paint seems to peel.”
“Don't fool yourself, my dear. You're much worse than a bitch. You're a saint. Which shows why saints are dangerous and undesirable.”
“If life be a war, it seemed my destiny to conduct it single-handed.”