“Oh, go to hell, Gabriel! What are you going to do, flap you wrings around and throw your halon at me?”

“You can't prepare for everything life's going to throw at you. And you can't avoid danger. It's there. The world is a dangerous place, and if you sit around wringing your hands about it, you'll out on all the adventure.”

“So? What are you going to do about it? Throw your mashed potatoes at me? I'm consumed by terror.”

“What will you do?""Oh, hell, I'll write a novel about writing the screenplay and making the movie.""What are you going to call it?""Hollywood.""Hollywood?""Yes...”

“Oh no. Hell no. I'm not asking Ma for one of her bras. That's just...wrong."... "Your woman. You do it."..." You go. We'll pay for your therapy later.”

“Aren’t you going to say, I told you so?” Hadrian whispered.“What would be the point in that?”“Oh, so you’re saying that you’re going to hang on to this and throw it at me at some future, more personally beneficial moment?”“I don’t see the point in wasting it now, do you?”