People liked to get you thinking you were small-time. That way, they made out and you got fucked. It was that… — Robert S. Stone
People liked to get you thinking you were small-time. That way, they made out and you got fucked. It was that way now, he thought: they were in the cabin talking big-time scores and he was hauling groceries for them. They might pay him or they might not; he was a yo-yo to them. One of life's little yo-yos.
But the fact was, they were old and soft. They were making it big, they had made their move, but they were soft. Surely, he thought, their day was over. It was someone else's turn now, someone smarter and tougher. And it was all in your mind; if you let weak people buffalo you, they would keep you down. He had been letting them do it all his life and it was time to call them on it. He was young, he was strong, a soldier of fortune. He had seen them up close, they were nothing much.
You had to take risks, there was nothing for free.
p. 239Source: Wikiquote · CC BY-SA 4.0
More from this book
"Hey, Cecil," Pablo said, "I want to ask you something, man. Promise you won't get pissed? What do you think is the use of me?"
"De use of you?" Cecil asked, incredulous.
"The use - you know. The use of me."
"Well now . . ." Cecil began. A throb of laughter trembled in his throat. "Dat be hard to say, you know."
"Cecil, I'm the first fucker in the world knows that. But right off ... what would you say the use of me was?"
"De use of you, mon? Same as everbody. Put one foot to front of de other. Match de dolluh wif de day."
"That's all?"
"Sure dat's all. Good times, hard times. Mos' certainly dat's all."
"Don't you think everybody got some special purpose?"
"Hey," Cecil demanded, "what I look like - a preacher, mon? Purpose of you and me to be buried in de ground and das hard enough to do. Be buried in de sweet ground and not in dat ocean." They drank their rum together.
"Dreamin' be de ruin of you, sailor. Be de ruin. Old chap, you too young to be worryin' after dose tings. Be burnin' out your mind."
"It is burning," Pablo said. "Burning out."
"Go to sleep, Pablo. Go upstairs and sleep it off, mon."
p. 126
"It isn't religion they need down here," Heath declared after five minutes. "They've had plenty of that. It's the pill. If this coast had half the population it has it would be in damn fine shape."
p. 188
"A little cinder in the wind, Pablo - that's what you are."
"Everybody's worth something," Pablo said. "I mean - everybody's life got some meaning to it. You know - there's a reason for people."
"No kidding? A reason for you? What is it?"
"I don't know," Pablo confessed. "I ain't found out yet. But I know there is one."
p. 253
