Do you know how much a hundred dollars is?' he asked. I said that I did not and he answered, 'It is a hundred dollars.

...I am happy to welcome you to a town peopled in morons exclusively. Furthermore, I hope that your transformation to moron is not an unpleasant experience.

Most people are chained to their own fear and stupidity and haven’t the sense to level a cold eye at just what is wrong with their lives. Most people will continue on, dissatisfied but never attempting to understand why, or how they might change things for the better, and they die with nothing in their hearts but dirt and old, thin blood - weak blood, diluted - and their memories aren’t worth a goddamned thing.

I saw my bulky person in the windows of the passing storefronts and wondered, when will that man there find himself to be loved?

I sighed. ‘It doesn’t matter what we do. Money comes and goes.’ I shook my head. ‘It doesn’t matter and you know it doesn’t.

You put a wage behind something, it gives the act a sort of respectability.

Our blood is the same, we just use it differently.