“It struck me there might be a reason why Helena Justina whipped along at such a cracking pace: she did not want to be stuck in the wilderness with my corpse. I thanked Jove for her ruthless good sense. I did not want my corpse to be stuck with her in any case.”

“I certainly haven't stuck my face in the wilderness.”

“I would not let her work until she was eighteen, and believe me, since the time she was being strolled down the street in her stroller, people were saying, “Can I use her in my commercial? Can I put her in my movie?” “No!” But I did let her take any class that she wanted to take. Singing, acting, dancing…”

“He was a boy, she was girl. Can I make it any more obvious? He was a punk; she did ballet. What more can I say? He wanted her, she'd never tell secretly she wanted him as well. All of her friends stuck up their nose, they had a problem with his baggy clothes. He was a skater boy. She said: 'see you later, boy'. He wasn't good enough for her. She had a pretty face, but her head was up in space. She needed to come back down to Earth!”

“The old women only stuck around this long out of a sense of duty. Your mom was the same way. That's why I loved her. She put her duty first, ahead of evverything.”

“She was my mother and she would not leave me. This I had simply accepted and expected. I had no more thanked her for it than i did the sun for shining on me.”

“I never stuck up a man in my life. Neither did any of my agents ever rob anybody or burglarize any homes while they worked for me. They might have pulled plenty of jobs before they came with me or after they left me, but not while they were in my outfit.”

“Who’s there?”
“The scratcher of your itch,” he said.
She opened the door a crack and stuck her nose out. “Was that supposed to be romantic?”

“Being with her I feel a pain, like a frozen knife stuck in my chest. An awful pain, but the funny thing is I'm thankful for it. It's like that frozen pain and my very existence are one.
The pain is an anchor, mooring me”

“Why should you call me to account for eating decently? If I battened on the scorched corpses of animals, you might well ask me why I did that. Why should I be filthy and inhuman? Why should I be an accomplice in the wholesale horror and degradation of the slaughter-house?”