The Year of Ice

You won't further the cause of human rights by walking away with your morals intact. Change is about getting your hand dirty.

The halls are full of kids, scrawny ones and fat ones, cool ones and uncool ones, freaks and jocks, cheerleaders and dogs, burnouts and nerds. It’s like Berlin, divided, except there are more walls in this city, and they’re better guarded.

That's the thing with the dead, they get to say nothing, forever.

She was a real quiet woman. But maybe we just weren't listening.

But there’s this thing in her voice, like what my mom called “doublespeak.” Saying one thing and meaning another. Aunt Nora told me it was leftover from English rule. She said, “That’s the only good thing to ever come of colonialism, Kevin. The Irish can tell you to go to hell in such a way that you look forward to the trip.

Tis a child that dreams there’s something better ’round the corner. It’s a grown man who knows it’s right there in front of him.

Smile and the world smiles with you, cry and you cry alone.

All it takes to make a new person is one night with some skank you hardly know. I mean, there I am, screwing her, and now there’s somebody like you or me on the way. It’s so fucking bizarre. You screw up one time and nine months later, bam! A new person.

I wanna fuck all the time, I've never wanted a baby.

Mom always used to say that stupid people have more nerve than brains.

Jon’s brought a couple of bottles of Phillips peppermint schnapps to Van Cleve Park. The label says Enjoy in Moderation. Not much chance of that in this crowd.