“Red is all right, I thought to myself. Wherever and whatever he is or will be, he is all right. It is I who must be made well. There's a hole inside me that will have to be filled up. And an aching that will have to grow less.”

“He sat watching the people go by, wondering how a thing of this sort could have come about, I must have let myself get mixed up in something horrible, he thought ... Probably she's the one who did it; I have no control of myself or anything that's happened. So now I'm waking up. I'm awake, he thought ... I've been destroyed and now that I'm awake all I can do is realize it ... The shock of getting up there and telling that account made me see. Mixture of lies and bits of truth. Woven together. Unable to see where each starts.”

“Explain to me, I beg you. Must man have a goal on this earth, or, on the contrary, must he be concerned with nothing at all? And if so, how can he live? He needs a plan, isn't that right?”

“As he stands a breath awayand takes me here tonightmy raging storm inside grows silentand all the world is right”

“From now onwards he must not only think right; he must feel right, dream right. And all the while he must keep his hatred locked up inside him like a ball of matter which was part of himself and yet unconnected with the rest of him, a kind of cyst.”

“It will be all right, Tom. Wherever we go now, whatever becomes of us, we'll be together, and it will all be all right.”