“Done any more robberies?" he asked with a nervous grin.You look a right berk," I told him, ignoring his question. I'd learnt from Tam that cruelty was an effective method against sadness. I'd cried much less since I'd known her.”

“I'd known him less then forty-eight hours and already I'd seen how he looked when he came, tasted his cooking, and had my ass handed to me playing Dance Dance Revolution, and now I was going to practically be living with him.”

“I didn't feel sad or happy. I didn't feel proud or ashamed. I only felt that in spite of all the things I'd done wrong, in getting myself here, I'd done right.”

“I wouldn't like to interview John Lennon, no, because I'd ask him one question and it'd go to another thing and I'd end up licking his face.”

“Saving her life was the one acceptable thing I'd done since I met her. The one thing that I was not ashamed of. The one and only thing that made me glad I existed at all. I'd been fighting to keep her alive since the first moment I'd caught her scent.”

“If I'd known he was going to die, my last words to him would have meant something. They certainly wouldn't have been my out-of-tune attempt at singing that old Grateful Dead song he loved so much. No, I would have told him how I felt about him, straight out. No more flirting, wild-eyed whispers in the grass outside. I would have looked at him harder to ensure his image was permanently seared in my mind. I'd have asked him a million more things so I could remember what mattered before I got in the car on the way home from Custard's. Because after, nothing mattered.”