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Onion Field 244: ‘I looked at that gun and at his mean little eyes and I knew as sure as there's shit in a goat that if I didn’t do what he said, the coroner would be puttin in a special order’. Onion Field 84: ‘[S]ome of these other joints [...] have lots of groupin where you sit around and tell lies to each other and have a ball-bustin good time’. Onion Field 393: ‘It was a different ball game this time around,’ the prosecutor complained. ‘The statements weren’t admissible anymore’. Onion Field 123: Maybe he ain’t so dumb after all [...] Maybe he really does know where the bear shit in the buckwheat. Onion Field 25: He knew how to boss a job when necessary. Onion Field 73: Jimmy [. . .] was seated in the parole office [...] After a bull session, in which he was rebuked for spending money on a cab instead of a bus, Jimmy was taken to another room for his first encounter with naline. Onion Field 94: ‘[I]t burned my ass that Billy understood the things Greg said and I couldn’t’ . Onion Field 71: There were only three things to talk about in the yard. [...] Third, the sex, the canteen punks: who is doing it to whom. Onion Field 120: Jesus, he thought, how much longer can I take this fuckin paddy cornpone with his fuckin family. Onion Field 231: Once, a good many years ago, some asshole took my gun off me. [...] Sweet fuckin mother, can you imagine me rollin around on the ground [...] yellin, ’Look out behind you, you little cundrum!’. Onion Field 293: You used to feel real cut down because you couldn’t play music as well as your dad. Onion Field 81: He realized the last time he had danced was when people dug on rhythm and blues [Ibid.] 118: Greg seemed to have only black people for his special friends and [...] dug on freaks. Onion Field 125: [of a nalorphine - trade name Nalline - test] ‘I thought maybe you been shooting dope without me knowing and maybe you tested dirty’ . Onion Field 96: [H]e’d grinned at Small just before he pulled down on him. Onion Field 113: Jimmy cut the wheel to the right, bouncing over the divider curb, skidding sideways, screeching rubber [...] ‘You damned near dumped it, Jim!’ Greg shouted. Onion Field 39: They would remain silent during the flare-ups, not certain whose side to take. Onion Field 118: A few nice lookin broads was hangin around [...] but they give me the ol freeze out. Onion Field 174: [of fast driving] Crist said, ‘Screw the beat. Let’s hump.’ Odom drove [at] one hundred and forty miles per hour. Onion Field 91: Jimmy pulled out onto the Harbor Freeway and kicked it up to seventy. Onion Field 331: ‘You used to say you were a pretty good shade-tree mechanic.’ ‘I can’t fix anything,’ said Karl. Onion Field 398: ‘You used to love Mexican and Italian food when I first married you.’ ‘I still do, Moms’. Onion Field 230: The beat cop had no reputation as a rollcall popoff. On the contrary, he was a quiet man. Onion Field 397: ‘I would perhaps suggest that Mr. Powell had reasons, and he can certainly out-psyche the psychiatrist’. Onion Field 117: ‘I damn near beat a dude to death one time who rolled over on me,’ Jimmy lied. ‘I found out he snitched me off’. Onion Field 71: There were only three things to talk about in the yard. [...] Who will hit you with his piece at the least provocation, the piece being a knife, not a gun. Onion Field 98: That’s what the Roman broad said to the big gladiator dude when he poured her the pork in that orgy movie. Onion Field 148: And if Powell don’t run off with his fat mouth and tell them all he knows about me, well shit, I might get out of this yet. Onion Field 128: I gotta cut this maniac loose. I gotta shine him on [...] I ain’t going to Frisco with him. Onion Field 60: [N]umerous liquor stores stock more Sneaky Pete and Sweet Lucy than the rest of metropolitan Los Angeles combined, most of it in short dog bottles which the derelicts can afford. Onion Field 15: Ian [...] waited for Art Petoyan, who was an intern in Psychiatric Admitting. [...] ‘Welcome to the snakepit, gentlemen’.