we drove on and on, past little villages and both good things and bad things were happening to the people in those villages too, but I still was nothing but arms and ears and eyes and maybe there'd be either some good luck for me or more death tomorrow.

It’s the order of things: each one gets a taste of honey then the knife.

I want so much that is not here and do not know where to go.

places to hunt places to hide are getting harder to find, and pet canaries and goldfish too, did you notice that?

I mean, say that you figure that everything is senseless, then it can't be quite senseless because you are aware that it's senseless and your awareness of senselessness almost gives it sense. You know what I mean?

I was beaten down long ago in some alley in another world.

Anybody can be a non-drunk. It takes a special talent to be a drunk. It takes endurance. Endurance is more important than truth.