My father was bipolar. One night, when I was ten, he tried to smother me with a Hello Kitty duvet.
I’ll tell you what. When we’re all done here, I’ll buy you a nice, big, family size bottle of top-shelf lube and I’ll tickle your balls till you beg me to stop and even then I won’t. I just won’t do it.[to Hughie]
You know, you’re always calling people “c**ts” or “tw*ts”. But I never really got how that’s an insult? They’re flexible, take a pounding, and they’re the reason behind, like, 98% of my life decisions.[to Billy]
I really did want to make a difference. I really did care. I was just like you. And then I started giving pieces of myself away and I guess I gave away everything.[to Starlight]
Everyone always asks, what’s our special weakness? Gamma rays? Iron daggers? Some ridiculous, stupid thing? The truth is, our weakness is the same as anyone’s. It’s people. The people we care about.
You tell anyone what you saw or heard here today, and I’ll cut your hands off and shove them so far up your ass, your fingers’ll give us a little wave out your throat, yeah?[to Mesmer]
You see, I know your secret. You’re not a bad person. Just a scared one.[to the Female]
When they’re apart, they’re absolute f***ing rubbish. But, you put them together, they’re the goddamn f***ing Spice Girls.
What have you got to lose that you ain’t already lost?[to Hughie]
Sometimes you get further with people by treating them like people.[to Billy]
He’s got a hard-on for mass murder and giving kids cancer, and his big old answer to the existential clusterf*** that is humanity, is to nail his own bleeding son to a plank.[about God]
Expecting a happy ending, were we? Well, I’m sorry, Hughie. It ain’t that kind of massage parlor.
