good call. A second drag and your next stop's the wastepaper basket - and not to toss your kleenex, true.

For f*ck's sake, get off the cross. Someone else needs the wood" ~Zsadist

I must confess. Of all of the brotherhood, he was the one I loved first and he remains the one I love the most. For me, he is just the...one.

She was staying. A little longer. V smiled to himself. So this was what winning the lottery felt like.

Giving in to a shrill instinct, she ran around the side of the building. Butch was marching toward his car as if he were carrying an unstable load, and she rushed to catch up with them. “Wait. I need to ask him a question.” “You want to know his shoe size or something?” Butch snapped. “Fourteen,” Wrath drawled. “I’ll remember that at Christmas, asshole.

I feel as though I am shelved. That I have been given the words to the story of my life, but that I have remained largely unread.

You're a good Irishman, right?" When Butch nodded, V said, "Irish, Irish… let me think. Yeah…" Vishous's eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, "May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And… my dearest friend… until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.