“Emos don't dance much to our music. They actually hate snow patrol and Girls allowed. How could anyone hate them? I haven't got any punk or metal stuff they would like but actually, when they'd had some cider they were dancing along happily to 'Mamma Mia' with us, no probs. Even though they're Emos, they are still like human.”

“I don't understand my feelings. I really don't. I don't understand how I could hate you so much after so much time. How, no matter how much I'd like to not hate you, I hate you even more. It grows.”

“I hate dancing. I mean, I don't hate it. I just - I'm terrible. I'm totally into music, but I really can't dance."Phew. Relief. "Yeah, you said that this morning. Neither can I." I hitched my thumb at the couples on the dance floor. "Not that I'd call that dancing.""Heh. Yeah.""Sometimes I wish I lived back when people had balls."Oh God. That did not come out right.”

“He liked the girls, liked to hold them around the waist, felt like a man when he did. But as for talking with them, no, no! Then he felt as though he were dealing with another species of human being, in some cases a higher one, in others a lower. He secretly admired the weak, pale, little girl and had picked her to be his wife. That was still the only way he could think of a woman - as a wife. He danced in a very chaste and proper manner, but he heard awful stories about his pals, stories he didn't understand until later. They could dance the waltz backwards around the room in a very indecent way, and they told naughty stories about the girls.”

“The thing is, I don't even hate cops. To tell you the truth, I actually feel a little sorry for them.”

“I hate you, God. I hate you as though you actually exist.”