I thought the whole world was like Lorain.

Beloved, you are my sister, you are my daughter, you are my face; you are me.

I am a moralist. I worry.

A son ain't what a woman say. A son is what a man do.

the hopelessness that comes from knowing too little and feeling too much (so brittle, so dry he is in danger of the reverse: feeling nothing and knowing everything)

The children - I call them children when they're under 18 - are hungry for that love. The drugs are just a sleep that you can't even wake up from, because you might remember what you did when you were there. There's no place for them - there should be a rehabilitation center on every corner, along with McDonald's and the banks. This is serious business. The waiting lists are incredible. I mean, it's terrible. It's really terrible.

A man ain't nothing but a man. But a son? Well, now, that's somebody.