“I wanted to touch him like he was a bunny, a kitten, something so special and soft your fingertips can’t leave it alone.”

“Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. Sad too. Touch, touch me.”

“They can do it. Just leave them alone. That's a lifestyle I don't want to touch.”

“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You can let go of the sword."
"I can’t. I can’t leave him alone. I have to protect him."
"You have.”

“There's something special about her. When she helped me with her touch-"
"Exactly what was she touching that was so memorable for you?"
"Watch your mouth.”

“I want to hold you like a kitten in my shirt, and still I want to spread your thighs and plow ye like a rotting bull. I dinna understand myself.”

“Hop in? Dude, are you out of your ever-loving mind? I can’t touch this. I might leave a fingerprint or something. (Nick)
Oh the horror. Guess I’ll have to trade the piece of junk in and get a new one if that happens. (Acheron)”

“I wanted to touch him, to tell him that even if everyone left everyone, I would never leave him, he talked and talked, his words fell through him, trying to find the floor to his sadness.”

“I don’t say I’ve got much of a soul, but, such as it is, I’m perfectly satisfied with the little chap. I don’t want people fooling about with it. ‘Leave it alone,’ I say. ‘Don’t touch it. I like it the way it is.”

“If your friend is sick and dying, the most important thing he wants is not an explanation; he wants you to sit with him. He's terrified of being alone more than anything else. So, God has not left us alone.”