“Half a century goes by in what seems like a year. Don't waste an hour in boredom, son, or wishing for tomorrow.”

“They were connoisseurs of boredom. They savoured the various bouquets of the subtly differentiated boredoms which rose from the long, wasted hours at the dead end of night.”

“Don't waste tomorrow on yesterday.”

“Dear Sweetheart, Without you my days are endless. Days seem like weeks... Weeks feel like months... Months like years... Years like centuries... Centuries like... You get the idea.”

“I don't wish to treat you like an inferior: that is (correcting himself), I claim only such superiority as must result from twenty years' difference in age and a century's advance in experience.”

“You dance like you don't give a flying taquito what anyone thinks.""Flying what?""You're just so... into it, Half the school wishes they were you, and the other half wished they loved something as much as you love dance.”