“The last thing I wanted to do was to sit in a crowded bar to watch my cousin get naked.”

“Watch, hell,' Walt said. 'This is strip poker. What kind of homo wants to sit around and watch four guys get naked?”

“No offense, but I’m getting stir-crazy. Can we please go downstairs and hang in the bar or do anything that keeps me from sitting here bored out of my mind while the three of you watch me grow eyebrow hair? I mean really, I am fine. I’m not going to spontaneously combust or do anything else freaky. Promise. (Tory)”

“I want the world, I want the whole world. I want to lock it all up in my pocket,/It's my bar of chocolate/Give it to me now! I want today/I want tomorrow . . . And if I don't get the things I am after/I'm going to scream!”

“It's not my fairytale. It's not anything I ever wanted. It's the last thing I've ever wanted. I hate crowds. I don't want to be the envy of every other woman on the planet. I never dreamed of being with a guy with flawless good looks. This is someone else's fairytale.”

“Something amazing happens when the rest of the world is sleeping. I am glued to my chair. I forget that I ever wanted to do anything but write. The crowded city, the crowded apartment, and the crowded calendar suddenly seem spacious. Three or four hours pass in a moment; I have no idea what time it is, because I never check the clock. If I chose to listen, I could hear the swish of taxis bound for downtown bars or the soft saxophone riffs that drift from a neighbor's window, but nothing gets through. I am suspended in a sensory deprivation tank, and the very lack of sensation is delicious.”