Knowledge without follow-through is worse than no knowledge.

I didn't feel that way about it. I had been playing with death for some time. I can't say we were the best of friends but we were well acquainted.

The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little bit more off you, until there was nothing left.

in this room the hours of love still make shadows.

A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.

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

A yet women -good women- frightened me because they eventually wanted your soul, and what was left of mine, I wanted to keep. Basically I craved prostitutes, base women, because they were deadly and hard and made no personal demands. Nothing was lost when they left. Yet at the same time I yearned for a gentle, good woman, despite the overwhelming price.