“Yes John and I were together for nearly ten years. It was nice for a long time. I worked for Oldmanston and Pheiff, one of LA's big ad agencies. He and I bought a loft in one of the downtown renovations. Very Pricey. I had a studio. It was all very Queer as Folk.”

“It wasn't long before I had the urge to glance inside. I then had a slight moment of panic. Number one, Big John was walking out the door with a meat cleaver gleaming in his hand. Yes, a meat cleaver.Number two, he was glaring at Caleb like he was the devil himself.”

“Am I grave?', he asked. 'I had an idea I was grinning from ear to ear.''You look as if you were taking me to a funeral. If that's a grin, your ears are very near together.”

“At one time I had given much thought to why men were so very rarely capable of living for an ideal. Now I saw that many, no, all men were capable of dying for one.”

“I grew up with all these hippies. Ten of them and one of me. None of them wanted to work and spent all their time talking and dreaming and fooling around. 90% of that hippie stuff is just bullshit but the ideals of that generation were very beautiful and powerful and rebellious. I had to dress and feed myself from the time I was six, which meant I became a very organised person. But there came a point when I was about seven or eight, when I saw the absurdity of living in a commune and I said to them, "Why don’t you just DO SOMETHING!?”

“What happened to your face?' he asked. 'When I was little, my grandmother was making candles and she had a big vat of hot beeswax in the backyard,' she said. 'I walked into the vat.' Usually that ended the conversation. 'I don't remember it,' she added. 'How old were you?' he asked. She tilted her face slightly, watching him. 'Ten months.' 'You were walking at ten months?' he asked. 'Not very well, apparently,' she said dryly.”