“Want me to drive?” Wade asks. “I won’t take any detours.”I slam on the brakes and come to a dead stop right in the middle of the road. “Sure. Why not? My life is one big fucking detour,” I yell. Then I bang my head on the steering wheel and I can’t help it. I start to cry.”

“I'm serious. She asked me what my greatest strength was. I said getting along with people.""That's not bad," I admitted."Then she asked what my greatest weakness was. And I said, 'Where should I start?""Adrian!""Stop saying my name like that. I told her the truth. By the time I was on the fourth one, she told me I could go."I groaned and resisted the urge to beat my head on the steering wheel.”

“The car suddenly veered off the road and we came to a sliding halt in the gravel. I was hurled against the dashboard. My attorney was slumped over the wheel. “What’s wrong?” I yelled. “We can’t stop here. This is bat country!”

“If I want my marriage to survive this honeymoon road trip I know I have to stop offering my special helpful tips for driving in foreign lands. So now, whenever we are heading into a traffic situation where I think my opinion could be particularly useful, I just take a deep breath and close my eyes. I'm learning to be a good wife.”

“Where is my chance to be somebody's Peter Van Houten?' He hit the steering wheel weakly, the car honking as he cried. He leaned his head back, looking up. 'I hate myself I hate myself I hate this I hate this I disgust myself I hate it I hate it I hate it just let me fucking die.”

“Dead-end roads don't mean you've come to your end, just means you need to take a different detour.”