She was the most beautiful woman in the world. If she was alive I'd probably be a better person.

Sometimes Webb believed that he would never experience a better feeling than when he was looking at her, would never see anything or anybody bursting with more life and spirit. Sometimes he felt he needed to inhale it and place it in a storage area in his soul. Just in case.

For a moment I can't help thinking how decent he is - that there's some hope for him beyond the obnoxious image he displays. Maybe deep down he is a sensitive guy, who sees us as real people with real issues. I want to say something nice. Some kind of thanks. I stand there, rehearsing it in my mind. "Oh my God," he says, "did you see that girl's tits?" Maybe not today.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Okay, would you like pizza?" "I don't think you deserve my company but I feel sorry for you so I'll say yes." "God help me," he said, half under his breath.

The gods do make playthings of us ... but it is we mortals who provide them with the tools.

I wasn't there that day to get on the three forty-seven to Yass", he says. "I was there to throw myself in front of it.

Be prepared for the worst, my love, for it lives next door to the best.