Jimmy: I want a gun.
Daryl: And people in hell want slurpees.
Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood.
Slight not what’s near through aiming at what’s far.
‘But you like her, don’t you?’ asked Howarth. ‘You like Mrs Connor?’ For himself, thought Howarth, he did not particularly like Mrs Connor. He desired Mrs Connor, however.
There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart’s desire. The other is to gain it.
Phil: Um, things I want: robot dog, night vision goggles, bug vacuum, GPS watch, speakers that look like rocks… I love my wife, but she sucks at giving gifts. I’m sorry for the pay-channel language, but- oh! Yogurt maker! I can’t not think of things I want.
As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don’t know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.