“I’m a one-man show. I need to start a band. You wanna join? Too bad! What about one-man band don’t you understand?”

“I don’t wanna die, man. They’re not playing. Have you seen how many of them are out there? One just took a shot at me, so unlike you morons, I’m hiding. Hiding is nice. (Vik)”

“I’m in a band. I don’t go to church every Sunday. I love punk rock music. Sometimes I use swear words a lot. I respect and admire gay men and women. I’m obsessed with horror films. I know what shame feels like. And guess what old man? Jesus is still my Savior.”

“I don’t know about other bands but the 5 of us are really more like brothers than band members.”— Aoi (Rock Read 038)”

“Remember, Thursday, that scientific thought -- indeed, any mode of thought, whether it be religious or philosophical or anything else -- is just like the fashions that we wear -- only much longer lived. It's a little like a boy band.""Scientific thought a boy band? How do you figure that?""Well, every now and then a boy band comes along. We like it, buy the records, posters, parade them on TV, idolise them right up until --"..."-- the next boy band?" I suggested."Precisely. Aristotle was a boy band. A very good one but only number six or seven. He was the best boy band until Isaac Newton, but even Newton was transplanted by an even newer boy band. Same haircuts -- but different moves.""Einstein, right?""Right. Do you see what I'm saying?""I think so.""Good. So try and think of maybe thirty or forty boy bands past Einstein. To where we would regard Einstein as someone who glimpsed a truth, played one good chord on seven forgettable albums.""Where is this going, Dad?""I'm nearly there. Imagine a boy band so good that you never needed another boy band ever again. Can you imagine that?”

“Listen up, ’cause I’m only gonna say this once,” Ty muttered as they walked to their gate. “I don’t talk when I fly. I sleep. And I don’t listen when I eat, understand? I don’t wanna be buddies. I don’t wanna chat,” he said with a sarcastic lilt to the word. “I don’t wanna know about your childhood or how your momma whipped you with a rubber glove or how much therapy you had to go through ’cause you flunked out of preschool. I don’t wanna hear about how you want to be Director someday or how many collars you got chasin’ those Internet freaks or how proud you are of your bowel movements. I don’t wanna go shopping at Barney’s with you, and I’m not gonna help you pick out your ties to match your socks and, I swear to God, if you get me shot, I’ll kill you.”