“I'm so pissed off about it, because - I mean, I wasted so much of my life with him and then he cheats on me and I'm not even particularly, like, depressed about it?”

“I need to be casual but not too casual. Dressy but not too dressy. I need him to think I just threw on the first thing I found and that I'm not taking this too seriously or overthinking it or even that I was thinking about it at all. Because I'm not. I'm totally not thinking about him, and I don't want him to think I was thinking about him, but I don't want him to think that I'm not thinking about him, because clearly he thought about me enough to ask me out and it would be mean not to be thinking about him at all, so I need just the right amount of thinking, and I'm not sure if that means boots and a skirt or skinny jeans and ballet flats. Help!”

“Amy Studt is singing in my ear about misfits. This song used to mean so much to me; that's because I'm a misfit.”

“I'm sorry.'Congratulations.'Can you tell me why you're so upset?'The thing is, Tobey should get this. I mean, he's gotten everything else about me. And I don't want to explain it all. So much of it has to do with jealousy, and I know it's stupid to be mad at him because he had a life before me. But I am anyway.”

“Listen, you," she hissed. "He's gay, he's my son, and I'm premenstrual. So don't—and I mean don't—even think about it." ~ Mom”

“When I'm lying in my bed I think about life and I think about death and neither one particularly appeals to me.”