“Yes, but you did it all wrong. Here's the correct way: you make it look like an accident, and then, when I'm dead, you call Edwin up, in his grief, and you're there for him, you offer a consoling shoulder to cry on, you get back into his life, and you make him depend on you. You don't murder her and let the boy you like know you did it. Seriously, this is like Psychopath 101, Gretchen. You are so outclassed.”

“So," Simon said. "Looks like you and Derek are getting along again. What happened? Did he give you the look?""Look?""You know. The one that makes him look like a whipped puppy, and makes you feel like a jerk for doing the whipping.""Ah, that one. So it works on you, too?"He snorted. "It even works on Dad. We give in, we tell him it's okay, and the next thing you know, he's chewing up slippers again."I laughed.”

“There’s like a dude at the door, asking for you?”“Did you let him in?”“No. I said I would check with you.”“Well, did you ask his name?”“Yeah. It’s Mr. Rickard.”“That’s Adam you idiot! Go and let him in!”“But he’s like fit!”“No need to sound so shocked.”“You’re dating him?”“Yes. look, I haven’t got time to go this, and he is standing out on the doorstep.”“Fucking hell Mum, like, way to go.”

“That's when I realized that as long as you don't broadcast your beefs, you can get away cold with murder. It's even better if you don't allow the beef to take place. If someone disrespects you, you can know in your heard that you're going to get him, but you don't have to show him there's a beef. You can just look at it like, Okay, this nigga must not know. And then you fall back and you put it down.”

“You think because he doesn't love you that you are worthless. You think that because he doesn't want you anymore that he is right -- that his judgement and opinion of you are correct. If he throws you out, then you are garbage. You think he belongs to you because you want to belong to him. Don't. It's a bad word, 'belong.' Especially when you put it with somebody you love. Love shouldn't be like that. Did you ever see the way the clouds love a mountain? They circle all around it; sometimes you can't even see the mountain for the clouds. But you know what? You go up top and what do you see? His head. The clouds never cover the head. His head pokes through, beacuse the clouds let him; they don't wrap him up. They let him keep his head up high, free, with nothing to hide him or bind him. You can't own a human being. You can't lose what you don't own. Suppose you did own him. Could you really love somebody who was absolutely nobody without you? You really want somebody like that? Somebody who falls apart when you walk out the door? You don't, do you? And neither does he. You're turning over your whole life to him. Your whole life, girl. And if it means so little to you that you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to him? He can't value you more than you value yourself.”

“He's normal and squeaky and responsible. Shell would call him Vanilla. I like Vanilla. You know what you're getting into with it. You can add anything to it. It doesn’t spank you and make you like it.”