[Rhage and Manny] “You’re doing great,” he murmured as he noticed those white knuckled fists. “Don’t worry about me.” “Right, right…your brothers.” Manny paused for a split second. “You’re all right, you know that.” “F*ck…that…” The fighter smiled, flashing fangs. “I’m…perfect.

So will you meet me?” “Yeah. Sure. Where.” “Montrag’s safe house in Connecticut. If you were the one who killed him, you know the address.

The guy stroked his goatee. "What do you call twenty guys watching the world series?" "The New York Yankees," Butch replied.

You're getting into some kind of shape, cop." Aw, come on, now." Butch grinned. "Don't let that shower we took go to your head." Rhage fired a towel at the male. "Just pointing out your beer gut's gone." It was a Scotch pot. And I don't miss it.

As much as we have free choice, absolute destiny is immutable. What is meant to happen does, through one measure or another.

Put on your big girl pants and deal.

Ah, now, don't get all mushy on me. We ain't dating." Butch