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Sometimes she couldn't think what jerrybuilt frame was holding her together. It wasn't willpower anymore. She'd gone past that lately. She only had will enough to make everything else work, these days. There was never enough left for her. She was like that blessed truck of Lester's, running on an empty sump.

She held the needle to the light. It was a wonder how something sharp came down to nothing like that. She looked through the needle's eye. So that's the Kingdom of Heaven, she thought. So that's all there was.

"It's the saddest sight to see, Scully, a man lettin his own life slip through his hands."

"You've got mean, Oriel."

She sniffs.

"It is the war that's done it to you?"

"It's all war," she said.

"What is?"

"I don't know. Everythin. Raisin a family, keepin yer head above water. Life. War is our natural state."

"Well, struggle maybe," said Lester.

"No, no, it's war."

"I only believe in one thing, Les," Sam solemnly uttered. "Hairy Hand of God, otherwise known as Lady Luck. Our Lady, if she's shinin that lamp on ya, she'll give you what you want."

The boat sat well in the water, evenly hipped and clean painted. In their rowlocks, the oars knocked and creaked with business. The working, operating feel of things pleased Quick Lamb. There was nothing more warming than the spectacle of something proceeding properly after a due amount of work. He was like that with rifles, with motors, drum reels, or some fancy roadhouse's new flushing toilet. If you didn't know how they worked, then things weren't worth having - something the old girl used to say.

"Hoping is what people do when they're too lazy to do anything else."

She wished her mouth didn't run on ahead of her so much. Her mouth was never any use to her when she needed it.

His wife was a good woman, and he understood that. But he remembered what the minister at Margaret River used to say - the good are fierce.

It only takes one thing to make you unhappy.

You spend your whole life trying to work out where you fit.

This was part of Corporation 9592’s strategy; they had hired psychologists, invested millions in a project to sabotage movies—yes, the entire medium of cinema—to get their customers/players/addicts into a state of mind where they simply could not focus on a two-hour-long chunk of filmed entertainment without alarm bells going off in their medullas telling them that they needed to log on to T’Rain and see what they were missing.