“I think he probably wants you to play Scrabble with him again,' said Ford, 'he's pointing to the letters.''Probably spelt crzjgrdwldiwdc again, I keep on telling him there's only one g in crzjgrdwldiwdc.”

“Shh!” the guy beside me hissed again.“Blame him,” I told the guy, pointing at Patch. The guy craned his neck back. “Listen,” he said, facing me again. “If you don’t quiet down, I’ll get security.”“Fine, go get security. Tell them to take him away,” I said, again signaling Patch. “Tell them he wants to kill me.”“I want to kill you,” hissed the guy’s girlfriend,”

“I told him that I loved him and that I'd always love him and I felt like a child who throws a centavo into a fountain and then she has to tell someone her most extraordinary wish even though she knows that the wish should be kept secret and that, in telling it, she is quite probably losing it. He replied that I was not to worry, that the penny could come out of the fountain again and again and again.”

“Our one employee came warily out of the back. He was always skittish with me, and if Lizzy wasn't around, he made a point of keeping his distance. I think he was expecting me to make a pass at him. He was seventeen, had stringy black hair,bad skin, and probably weighed a buck five soaked wet. I didn't have the heart to tell him he wasn't my type.”

“So why don't you tell him you're sorry?" Gaby suggested. "Uh... because he probably never wants to speak to me again?""How do you know? Do you have a fifth sense too?"Scarlett sighed. "No. And I think that's sixth sense.""No, I don't see dead people. It's different.”

“Meanwhile I'll probably see him again. That's how sick I am.”