But you know what they say about Gutshot: the population never goes up and never goes down, because every time a woman gets pregnant, a man leaves town.

Hi, I’m at the Speedway at Eighty-sixth and Ditch, and I need an ambulance. The great love of my life has a malfunctioning G-tube.

He puts the killing thing in his mouth but doesn't give it the power to kill him.

My regret was immediate and permanent and useless.

I could try to pretend that I didn't care anymore, but it could never be true again. You can't just make yourself matter, and then die, Alaska, because now, I am irretrievably different, and I'm sorry I let you go, yes, but you made the choice.

Because no one thought she was a person, she had no one to really talk to.

Shouldn't letting go be painless if you've never learned how to hold on?