It really was a brutal place, Los Angeles, less a city than a collection of hostile villages united only in their mutual suspicion of each other and a susceptibility to disasters, natural and otherwise. Fires, floods, riots and earthquakes; it was looking more and more like Armageddon-by-the-Pacific.

It had that unnatural stillness of a place where people feared to venture outside.
"You better come in before someone tries to kill you," she said. "Did you lock your car?"
"Yeah. It has an alarm."
"That won't stop anyone around here."
"Bad gang problem?"
"When I was raising my kids, they used to play out in the streets. You see any kids out there now?"

[Irene Gentry] "Some people are just so beautiful that life seems to speak to us through them - they're vital, radiant. It's more startling in men than women, I think, because we don't usually let ourselves think of men that way. But Shakespeare knew. Remember the sonnets? 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day,' was written to another man."