“Tell her thisAnd more,—That the king of the seasWeeps too, old, helpless man.The bustling fatesHeap his hands with corpsesUntil he stands like a childWith surplus of toys.”

“The strong man lit a cigarette. It looked too frail for his hand. They looked like King Kong and Fay Wray, that hand, that cigarette. There was a movie going on right under his nose and he didn't even know. The guy had about one brain cell and he was doing time in it.”

“I love you Anna Covey,' he said, his voice barely audible. And slowly, clumsily, he leant forward, and his lips found hers, and Anna felt him kiss her awkwardly, she knew that she wasn't a Surplus any more. And nor was Peter.”

“One thing I could never stand was to see a filthy dirty old drunky howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blurp blurp in between as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts;I could never stand to see anyone like that. whatever his age might be, but more especially when he was real old like this one was.”

“He brought the knife down. Helplessly, Nicholas watched it head for his chest, but before but before it got there, a hand flew out of nowhere to meet it. The knife passed through the hand like it was water, but the the hilt jammed into the palm, trapping it an inch before the knife point could pierce Nicholas's chest. Albert turned in confusion to see Simon standing there with the knife clear through his hand. He looked too amazed to feel the pain."Simon? But your useless," Albert said, shocked."I'm just as surprised as you are," Simon replied,”

“Hey, dick head," he yelled with hands on his hips. "Don't even think of coming back here and telling me you shook anything more than her hand!”