“I quickly found myself in the center of the room, trussed up to a sturdy, high-backed chair, which Joaquin happily assured me was an original Louis the Fourteenth. Oh goody. I'd hate to die bound to something from IKEA.”

“Where is my chance to be somebody's Peter Van Houten?' He hit the steering wheel weakly, the car honking as he cried. He leaned his head back, looking up. 'I hate myself I hate myself I hate this I hate this I disgust myself I hate it I hate it I hate it just let me fucking die.”

“I hate myself I hate myself I hate this I hate this I disgust myself I hate it I hate it I hate it just let me fucking die.”

“I look over the back of the chair to make sure he’s still asleep. He is. And he still has an erection. I can’t stay in the room with him like that all night. I’m liable to give myself finger cramps from playing with myself.”

“I love you,' Rachael said. 'If I entered a room and found a sofa covered with your hide I'd score very high on the Voigt-Kampff test.”

“Rory stood up with some difficulty, the chair still tied to him. He leaned over me [Maria] and managed to pull my ropes free. Then he turned to Dr Bloom.'We're escaping,' he said. 'Goodbye.'Chair still tied to his back, he ran with me from the room. I take it all back. Rory is just wonderful.”