“Most people think Marv is crazy, but I don't believe that. I'm no shrink and I'm not saying I've got Marv all figured out or anything, but "crazy" just doesn't explain him. Not to me. Sometimes I think he's retarded, a big, brutal kid who never learned the ground rules about how people are supposed to act around each other. But that doesn't have the right ring to it either. No, it's more like there's nothing wrong with Marv, nothing at all--except that he had the rotten luck of being born at the wrong time in history. He'd have been okay if he'd been born a couple of thousand years ago. He'd be right at home on some ancient battlefield, swinging an ax into somebody's face. Or in a roman arena, taking a sword to other gladiators like him. They'd have tossed him girls like Nancy, back then.”

“Sometimes he felt as if he'd been born in the wrong century. The people of this time were all wrong for him, and he was all wrong for them. But he refused to become something he wasn't just for society's approval.”

“He was soppy! He went along with everything! I'd say what about this or what about that, and he'd always say yes. It didn't matter what I said. It was always the same answer. He gave into everything. You can't have that in a man. I like people to stand up for themselves. They've got to have their own opinion, know their own mind. I could tell it was going nowhere. I couldn't be with him. We weren't right for each other. When I broke it off, he was baffled and broken. He cried and asked how he'd wronged me. But he hadn't done anything wrong; he just wasn't the right one”

“Roger said, 'I don't know about having a shrink around all the time. Are you analyzing me right now?'Sophie rolled her eyes. 'How original. No, I'm not analyzing you. It'd take a whole team of shrinks to figure out your crazy ass, and I simply don't have the time or energy.”

“But I feel like letting other people be good for me--after all, I'm just an unhappy little girl and even if I'm extremely intelligent, that doesn't change anything, does it? An unhappy little girl who, just when things are at their worst, has been lucky enough to meet some good people. Morally, do I have the right to let this chance go by?”

“He wasn't the type for displays of affection, either verbal or not. He was disgusted by couples that made out in the hallways between classes, and got annoyed at even the slightest sappy moments in movies. But I knew he cared about me: he just conveyed it more subtly, as concise with expressing this emotion as he was with everything else. It was in the way he'd put his hand on the small of my back, for instance, or how he'd smile at me when I said something that surprised him. Once I might have wanted more, but I'd come around to his way of thinking in the time we'd been together. And we were together, all the time. So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.”