“Whip," Walter echoed. "So there's an iPhone app for fighting zombies. Interesting.”

“However, because they have no actual interests of their own (or if they do, they squelch them in order to fit in) and merely pursue those that they think will look best on their college apps, they're zombies.”

“He threw back his shoulders, a hunter preparing to stalk his prey across the night...and pulled an iPhone out of his pocket."You are kidding me." I watched as he tapped through screens with practiced swipes. "There's an app for that?”

“There's no app for a bourbon buzz on a warm day in a cool, dark bar. The world will always want a drink.”

“Speaking of… does this mean you get your phone back?” I shrug. “I don’t really want that phone back. I’m hoping my whipped boyfriend will get me an iPhone for Christmas.”

“She flipped through the pages of her apps, as if Apple made an app for "Escape from a deserted island.”