“I have a feeling that this is going to be a good year.""What makes you think so?""I don't know... It just has all the appearances of a good year.""Have you looked in all the corners?”

“You see, I think drugs have done some good things for us. I really do. And if you don't believe drugs have done good things for us, do me a favor. Go home tonight. Take all your albums, all your tapes and all your CDs and burn them. 'Cause you know what, the musicians that made all that great music that's enhanced your lives throughout the years were rrreal fucking high on drugs. The Beatles were so fucking high they let Ringo sing a few tunes.”

“I don't know what good it is to know so much and be smart as whips and all if it doesn't make you happy.”

“You know, all the evil in the world, all the sadness comes from not having a good answer to that question: What do I do next? You just keep thinking of good things to do, lad. You'll be all right. We'll all be all right. I wanted you to know that.”

“She laughed softly. "Therapy isn't so much about what I think as you do." "Then why do it at all?" "Because we don't always know what it is we're thinking or feeling. When you have a guide, it's easier to figure things out. You'll often discover that you already know what to do. I can help you ask questions and go places you mihgt not have on your own." "Well, you're good at the qujestion part." I noted dryly.”

“You think.. you think if maybe you focused on all the bullshit you had to endure with her, that'd make it easier?"I sighed. "I've tried. I keep coming back to the same thought.""What's that?""Now that it's over, I wish I could have all the bad stuff back... just so I could have the good.”