and our few good times will be rare because we have the critical sense and are not easy to fool with laughter

If there are junk yards in hell, love is the dog that guards the gates.

I was a man who thrived on solitude; without it I was like another man without food or water. Each day without solitude weakened me. I took no pride in my solitude; but I was dependent on it. The darkness of the room was like sunlight to me.

Trouble and pain were what kept a man alive. Or trying to avoid trouble and pain. It was a full time job.

Her eyes always had a frantic, lost look. He could never cure her eyes of that.

Gradually I came to realize that my understanding of women goes only as far as the pleasure is concerned.

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.