“I had always liked that: I liked routine. I liked being bored. I didn’t want to, but I did.”

“My days had a pleasant identicalness about them. I had always liked that: I liked routine. I liked being bored. I didn’t want to but I did.”

“I always liked routine. I suppose I never found boredom very boring. I doubted I could explain it to someone like Margo but drawing circles through life struck me as a kind of reasonable insanity.”

“I didn’t want to care, but somehow, like always, I did. She was wired into my heart. Twisted and kinked and threaded right through.”

“I told you I didn’t want to go. Of course, I really did want to go, but I just said I didn’t want to go so you’d beg me to go and I could feel needed. I’m needy like that.”

“And that was the unusual thing about me. Unlike pretty much every teen I knew, I liked to be doing the right thing. I didn’t like breaking rules. I didn’t like pushing the envelope. I didn’t like trespassing, or sneaking into cinemas, or buying alcohol or cigarettes. I didn’t even feel comfortable running into a cafe to use the toilet without having first bought a drink. Basically, I didn’t like to do half the things all teenagers did almost habitually.”