“Then why is it that I feel like a schoolboy on sunday? It’s nearly tomorrow and I don’t want to go.”

“And it’s not that I’m so unhappy I don’t want to live any more. That’s not what it feels like. It feels more like I’m tired and bored and the party’s gone on too long and I want to go home.”

“I really do. It’s the first time I don’t have to think at work, you know. It’s really simple. Youjust answer the phone and put in people’s orders. It’s pretty laid back. You don’t like it?”“No. I feel like it’s killing my brain.”“Maybe that’s why I like it. I don’t mind not having to think.”

“I’m curious about things that people aren’t supposed to see—so, for example, I liked going to the British Museum, but I would like it better if I could go into all the offices and storage rooms, I want to look in all the drawers and—discover stuff. And I want to know about people. I mean, I know it’s probably kind of rude but I want to know why you have all these boxes and what’s in them and why all your windows are papered over and how long it’s been that way and how do you feel when you wash things and why don’t you do something about it?”

“Derek’s like, “So . . . what do you want to do first?”“I don’t know.”“Feel like ice cream?”“It’s, like, three degrees out.”“That’s why getting ice cream would be badass.”

“Kids don’t know about best sellers. They go for what they enjoy. They aren’t star chasers and they don’t suck up. It’s why I like them.”