“And I wonder if there is really any point to what I'm doing, or what I'm supposed to make of a world where a man can get rich playing "let's pretend”

“I watched him playing with the long blades of grass, weaving them into patterns as he hummed an unfamiliar song, a waltz."What are you doing?" I asked him."I'm letting you get used to the idea of me," he said idly. "I'm pretending to be harmless. Is it working?""Until you smile," (...)”

“Rich kid," Shiva yelled, "you don't know one damn thing! What purpose, man? What thing in the whole sister-sleeping world got reason, yara? For what reason you're rich and I'm poor? Where's the reason in starving, man? God knows how many millions of damn fools living in this country, man, and you think there's a purpose! Man, I'll tell you -- you got to get what you can, do what you can with it, and then you got to die. That's reason, rich boy. Everything else is only mother-sleeping wind!”

“I'm no more a wonder than anyone. And that's what makes the world magical. Every baby's a seed of wonder - that gets watered or it doesn't.”

“Would it make you feel better if I pretended not to be making it up as I go along? [...] In that case, I know exactly what I'm doing, but please don't ask me about it in any great detail.”

“This is me, Ana. All of me...and I'm all yours. What do I have to do to make you realize that? To make you see that I want you any way I can get you. That I love you.”