Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: This was to be my final hit, but let's be clear about this. There's final hits and final hits. What kind was this to be?
Spud: [singing] Did you think I would leave you crying, when there's room on my horse for two? Climb up here, Tommy and don't be dying, I can go just as fast with two. When we grow up we'll both be soldiers And our horses will not be toys, and I wonder if we'll remember when we were two little boys.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: I fantasize about a massive pristine convenience. Brilliant gold taps, virginal white marble, a seat carved from ebony, a cistern full of Chanel no.5, and a flunky handing me pieces of raw silk toilet roll. But under the circumstances I'll settle for anywhere.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: I don't feel the sickness yet, but it's in the post. That's for sure. I'm in the junkie limbo at the moment. Too ill to sleep. Too tired to stay awake, but the sickness is on its way. Sweat, chills, nausea. Pain and craving. A need like nothing else I've ever known will soon take hold of me. It's on its way.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: And with that Mark Renton had fallen in love.
Tommy: Very, absolutely fucking radge. "It's me, or Iggy Pop", she says.
Spud: So what're you gonna do?
Tommy: Well I paid for the tickets!
2nd Interviewer: Mr. Murphy, what attracts you to the leisure industry?
Spud: In a word: pleasure. It's like, my pleasure in other people's leisure.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: It seems, however, I really am the luckiest guy in the world. Several years of addiction right in the middle of an epidemic, surrounded by the living dead. But not me. I'm negative. It's official. And once the pain goes away, that's when the real battle starts. Depression, boredom... You feel so fucking low, you want to fucking top yourself.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: You see if you ask me we're heterosexual by default, not by decision. It's just a question of who you fancy. It's all about aesthetics and it's fuck all to do with morality. But you try telling Begbie that.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: I quite enjoyed the sound of it all. Profit, loss, margins, takeovers, lending, letting, subletting, subdividing, cheating, scamming, fragmenting, breaking away. There was no such thing as society and even if there was, I most certainly had nothing to do with it. For the first time in my adult life I was almost content.
Francis (Franco) Begbie: It was fuckin' obvious that that cunt was gonnae fuck some cunt.
Sick Boy: Ursula Andress, the quintessential Bond girl. That's what everyone says. The embodiment of his superiority over us. Beautiful, exotic, highly sexual and totally unavaiable to anyone apart from him. Shite. Let's face it. She can shag one punter from Edinburgh, she'd shag the whole lot of us.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton: We called him Mother Superior on account of the length of his habit.
