It's a special kind of quiet. Quiet like hushed whispers. Quiet like dead bodies that weren't there the night before. [...] I'm getting involved with the mobs soon, myself. It's part of the information business and frankly I'd rather know what they're doing than be outside looking in.
I heard the bats are barely a family anymore. It makes sense, after Damian's death everything fell apart. If Stephanie was here, she could bring them together.
Coffee would be nice. More than nice. Why don't you come by the hat store and give me advice on which ones I ought to sell?