“You get a good review, and it’s like crack. You need another hit. And another. And another. I know authors are like Tinkerbell and generally need applause to survive, but it’s a slippery slope.”

“I think it’s very healthy to spend time alone. You need to know how to be alone and not be defined by another person.”

“[T[his isn’t just “another day, another dollar.” It’s more like “another day, another miracle.” (213)”

“In my profession it isn’t a question of telling good literature from bad. Really good literature is seldom appreciated in its own day. The best authors die poor, the bad ones make money — it’s always been like that. What do I, an agent, get out of a literary genius who won’t be discovered for another hundred years? I’ll be dead myself then. Successful incompetents are what I need.”

“You know,” he says, peeking inside the bag. “It’s okay. Because ham and cheese is my absolute favorite…and an apple? It’s like, the lunch of champions.” I stifle another yawn. “It doesn’t get much better than that, right?” “Only if you were eating with me,” he says.”

“It’s a yes then? (Arik)No. I thought I’d walk through hell to reclaim you and carry your baby just for the heck of it. Who needs marriage. (Geary)I do! (Arik)Good. I can let you live another day. (Geary)”