“*Okay, you make eating hos sound pretty. talk poetry to me, writer boy.*”
“Poetry's unnat'ral; no man ever talked in poetry 'cept a beadle on boxin' day, or Warren's blackin' or Rowland's oil, or some o' them low fellows; never you let yourself down to talk poetry, my boy.”
“There is a whole other world with an entirely different version of me, a me that is not pretty, a me that no boys want, a me she would never talk to.”
“There’s pretty much no way for me to answer that without sounding like an asshole, so maybe you could do me a solid and not make me.”
“I’m a shallow, shallow boy. Hey, it helps that you’re pretty. It brings out the nice guy in me. Makes me what to share my cookies with you.”
“What are you talking about? You’re like a professional boyfriend.”“Thanks. You make me sound like a gigolo.”