“My grandfather blasted in. "Aw now, hell, carolyn, don't go twisting the boy back up in knots all over again now that you finally got him straightened out. They aren't leprechauns, son. they're elves. Leprechauns are those little drunk motherfuckers from Ireland.”

“How do you know it's true if you don't believe in it?""I...huh?""How can you understand something you don't believe in?""Shin, that doesn't make any sense. That's like saying you can't understand leprechauns unless you believe in them.""Do you understand leprechauns?""I don't believe in them.""There you go.”

“Around the opposite sex, especially back then, my tongue twisted into knots even a Boy Scout would walk away from”

“It comes with being sixteen," Mom said. "You teenagers, you go into a cocoon when you turn fifteen and don't come out for years." "So they become butterflies when they finally come out?" my little sister Christina asked. "No," Mom said. "They're still caterpillars, only now they're big fat caterpillars that smell.”

“Language is power that gets abused all the time, Robin, but we've got real enemies out there somewhere and until they're out of the picture, I won't get knotted up over people who don't get all the words right. It's a waste of energy.”

“Well I am still not drunk" I straightened up against the pillows as best I could. "You told me once that if you could still stand up, you weren't drunk." You aren't standing up." he point out. You are.”