“Die, damn you!Maybe tomorrow. Just now I'm busy.”

“I'm dying of boredom. Or maybe just dying.”

“So I've got five books, a building, and a hundred bucks. I'm starting my business tomorrow.”

“You know, a lot of people say they didn't want to die until the Red Sox won the World Series. Well, there could be a lot of busy ambulances tomorrow.”

“Yes, she is." He looks at me, his face carved in pain. "She is dying, Sara. She will die, either tonight or tomorrow or maybe a year from now if we're really lucky. You heard what Dr. Chance said. Arsenic's not a cure. It just postpones what's coming."My eyes fill up with tears. "But I love her," I say, because that is reason enough.”

“But it's writing, damn it, not washing the car or putting on eyeliner. If you can take it seriously, we can do business. If you can't or won't, it's time for you to close the book and do something else. Wash the car, maybe.”