I'll get back to the whores and the horses and the booze, while there's time.

Our disappointment sits between us.

I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.

It seems I make a lot of mistakes and it seems that I am not allowed any.

A man who can beat the horses can do anything he makes up his mind to do.

Fay had a spot of blood on the left side of her mouth and I took a wet cloth and wiped it off. Women were meant to suffer; no wonder they asked for constant declarations of love.

They have no idea that it can be done by a bus driver, a field hand, or a fry cook. They have no idea where it comes from. It comes from pain, damnation and impossibility. The blow to the soul of the gut. It comes from getting burned and seared and slugged. It comes from...new and awful places and the same old places.