“Your telephone! Your friend Travis is in it!”
“The telephone is your theater, your stage. Your receiver is your curtain. When it goes up, make yourself a star.”
“No, it’s not okay. You said you wanna be friends, but we can’t hang out?” I rolled my eyes, and Travis huffed. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. Are you coming or not?”
“I. Am. Yours. Mrs. Travis Maddox, forever and always.”
“The richer you are, I've worked out, the smaller your telephone and the bigger your telephoto lens.”
“Your sixteen days to late you son of a bitch"- Travis, Whatchers”