“I don't think God gives a shit if we have a dog or if a woman wears shorts. I think He gives a shit whether you're a good person.”
“See, you think I give a shit. Wrong. In fact, while you talk, I'm thinking; How can I give less of shit? That's why I look interested.”
“I love you, Sunshine, and I don't give a shit whether you want me to or not.”
“Who gives a shit what everyone thinks?” he said. I see now that this has long been some sort of mantra for him. I've never been that free. I want to be, and sometimes I pretend to be, but I’m not. I’m forever chained to giving a shit about what someone thinks.”
“What makes you think that I give a shit about your self-confidence?”
“I understand fine," Kevin said bitterly. "I just think it's fucked. God is either powerless, or stupid or he doesn't give a shit. Or all three. He's evil, dumb and weak. I think I'll start my own Exegesis.”