“Billy's native arrogance might well have been a gift of miffed genes, then come to splendid definition through the tests to which a street like Broadway puts a young man on the make: tests designed to refine a breed, enforce a code, exclude all simps and gumps, and deliver into the city's life a man worthy of functioning in this age of nocturnal supremacy. Men like Billy Phelan, forged in the brass of Broadway, send, in the time of their splendor, telegraphic statements of mission: I, you bums, am a winner. And that message, however devoid of Christ-like other-cheekery, dooms the faint-hearted Scottys of the night, who must sludge along, never knowing how it feels to spill over with the small change of sassiness, how it feels to leave the spillover on the floor, more where that came from, pal. Leave it for the sweeper.”

“I have wanted you for so long now,” he said roughly, “I’ve no memory of how it feels to be devoid of the craving. But you must know what you do. I need you to think of who you are and where you are and who I am. Think of how things will be once we’ve crossed this threshold. Think of how you will leave this cabin—disheveled and well fucked.”

“-Are you ready to return to the outside world, Billy?-No, definitely not, sir.-Well, you can't stay here forever now, can you?-Why not? I'm not bothering anybody, sir.-Because it's not healthy. You're a very special young man, Billy. It's time you found that out on your own, out there. The world may not be as terrible as you think.-I would like to stay here one more month, if I may, sir.-One more month? Why?-Summer will be over, sir. I can't go out there if it's going to be summertime.-And why not?-I wouldn't want to see any young girls playing. I would not want to see any flowers outside.-Why?-Because everything happy right now is going to die.-But Billy...-I would not like to be reminded of anything pretty.-But Billy, of course, anything might...-I would not like to be reminded.-OK, OK. We will se what we can do, Billy.”

“Sometimes when you hit send, you can imagine the message going straight into the person's heart. But other times, like this time, it feels like the words are merely falling into a well.”

“You pay a whore to make you feel like a man, you fund a philharmonic to make yourself feel like a refined man.”

“...if God is a man, I am screwed, for there is nothing men like more than to show their omnipotence over others, leaving in their path only scorched earth.”