“He planned for his son or daughter to have three or four toys, minimal sports equipment, and a thousand books. He didn't care for the rhymed nonsense of Dr. Seuss, but preferred anything that instilled basic knowledge sets. He could abide a talking animal, but not an inanimate object that spoke.”

“Mr. Hibna had been misguided in trying to take the drastic alteration of his life into his own hands. As usual, the world was supplying the change. As usual, Mr. Hibna was a character, not the author. And thank God. Mr. Hibna wasn't up to being the author. He didn't know how to save himself. Never was he less skilled, more doltish, than when he tried to figure and plot his own life.”

“Why do people keep doing stuff?" he said, talking to himself it seemed.Swin hesitated."Wiping counters down and taking pictures. Cheating. Defending things."Swin couldn't see Kyle's face. It appeared he was about to say more, then thought better of it. It seemed he was going to laugh or cry; of course he was going to do neither. It was a moment of defeat, nothing more. Kyle looked back toward the woods where he'd thrown the gun. Swin felt he had to speak."It's involved," he said. "Many schools of thought. In layman's terms, being the most sophisticated monkey makes you the most confused monkey. Taking action, any at all, is a way to alleviate that confusion. You, you're one of the least sophisticated of us sophisticated monkeys, and therefore suffer less confusion, and have less use for the empty actions that alleviate confusion. I don't mean that as a put-down."Though Kyle didn't move, Swin knew he was listening, knew the explanation was somehow helping.”

“[he] had learned how to force his mood, to keep himself in the middle ground, neither manic nor hopeless. He seemed a bit lighter in spirit, perhaps because he had less of it. He would find peace, even if it were some compromised brand.”

“What responsibility are you avoiding...He wasn't avoiding responsibility...Though there was one thing he clung to. An excuse, perhaps, like the dead emperor. It was the soul of the wretch. Apathy. The belief that nothing was his fault, the belief that he couldn't change anything. If a man was cursed, or if he believed he didn't have to care, then he didn't need to hurt when he failed. Those failures couldn't have been prevented. Someone or something else had ordained them.”

“In middle school, he reminded them, ugly girls are intimidated by pretty girls. Hell, it was this way with adult women. A team could gain advantage by keeping tan and having their nails done.”

“Anybody can justify anything. It's what separates us from animals. It's a waste of time, though, isn't it-sitting around justifying when there's so much to be done?”