“My language limitations here are real. My vocabulary is adequate for writing notes and keeping journals but absolutely useless for an active moral life. If I really knew this language, there would surely be in my head, as there is in Webster's or the Dictionary of American Slang, that unreducible verb designed to tell a person like me what to do next.”

“Notes and chords have become my second language and, more often than not, that vocabulary expresses what I feel when language fails me. The guitar is my conscience, too - whenever I've lost my way, it's brought me back to center; whenever I forget, it reminds me why I'm here.”

“I found cause to wonder upon what ground the English accuse Americans of corrupting the language by introducing slang words. I think I heard more and more different kinds of slang during my few weeks' stay in London than in my whole "tenderloin" life in New York. But I suppose the English feel that the language is theirs, and that they may do with it as they please without at the same time allowing that privilege to others.”

“Now, Sophia, would you care to tell me why you're here by the pond instead of reporting to your next class?''I'm experiencing some teenage angst, Mrs. Casnoff,' I answered. 'I need to, like, write in my journal or something.”

“Would you like tickets for tonight’s tour? (Andrei)Like another hole in my head. (Esperetta)That’s American slang for ‘no thank you. (Francesca)Strange. When I was in New York it was slang for ‘no fucking way.' (Andrei)”

“The limits of my language are the limits of my universe.”