“I never thought I would hear you expound the virtues of caring about people." I frowned. "I care about people. I just don’t like them.”

“Many people need desperately to receive this message: 'I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone.”

“I do not care about the greatest good for the greatest number . . . Most people are poop-heads I do not care about them at all.”

“Did the thought ever occur to you that I might care about you? People are allowed to care about each other." "You don't know me well enough to care about me." "Let me clue you in on something, Andres. Just because you hate yourself doesn't mean that I have to hate you.”

“People say to the mentally ill, ‘You know so many people think the world of you.’ But when they don’t like themselves they don’t notice anything. They don’t care about what people think of them. When you hate yourself, whatever people say it doesn’t make sense. ‘Why do they like me? Why do they care about me?’ Because you don’t care about yourself at all.”

“Exactly what am I supposed to care about? That we were just getting to the fun stuff? That my hand was on your breasts, and your hands were all over my chest, and both of us were having a good time? Damn right I care about that. I wasn’t finished. But don’t expect me to care that a little old lady looked in the window and watched. Why should I care what people are going to say about that? People have talked about me since the day I was born. I stopped caring a long time ago.”