“Some kids do drugs. Some kids light stuff on fire. Me, I eat oats.”

“This was the kid who used to toddle over to my bed at 6 o’ clock in the morning every weekend morning to pull on my blankets so I’d get up and watch cartoons with him. This was the kid who once made me play Hungry Hungry Hippos for an hour straight, until I thought my hands were going to fall off from slamming down those dumb little levers to make the hippos’ heads move. This was the kid who had spent an entire days at a time begging me to play Chutes and Ladders with him. And now he was feeling too sick to play with me.”

“We're all free to chose some people to love, and then do it.”

“A typical weeknight when he was home like this:1. Sit down and try to do homework.2. Get interrupted by Jeffrey: “Please play with me!”3. Ignore brother, try to do homework.4. Get interrupted by Jeffrey: “Come ON, Steven! I’m BORED!”5. Beg Jeffrey for five minutes of peace.6. Get begged for five minutes of play: “Steven, you never, ever play with me—ever!”7. Move entire homework operations center to different room.8. Repeat steps #1-7 as directed by small drugged maniac.”

“Not fair? Oh, I'm sorry I get this lovely laptop computing device when all you get is the ability to walk, control your hands, and know you'll survive until your eighteenth birthday." Then the kid was going, "Uh, I didn't mean..." But Tad wasn't done yet. While the whole class watched in horror, he put his hands through the metal support braces on the arms of his wheelchair and forced himself to stand up. Then he took a shaky little step to the side, gestured toward the chair, and said, "Why don't you take a turn with the laptop? You can even have my seat.”

“It's amazing--my parents call everything a discussion. If I were standing across the street, firing a bazooka at my mother, while my father was launching mortar back at me, and Jeffery was charging down the driveway with a grenade in his teeth, my parents would say we should stop having this public "discussion".”

“Steven, I look like a raccoon.You do NOT look like a raccoon.Actually, he looked like some deranged anteater, but I didn’t figure that would be the thing to tell him.Yes, I do. Oh, no. What if I stay this way forever?You’re not going to stay that way forever, Jeffy. People get black eyes all the time. If they never got better, the streets would be crowded with raccoon people. Soon the raccoon people would find each other and breed.I was on a roll here.The preschools would fill up with strange ring-eyed children. Soon the raccoons would be taking over our streets, stealing from our garbage cans, leaving eerie tails of Dinty Moore beef stew cams in their wakes. Gangs of them would haunt the malls, buying up all the black-and-gray-striped sportswear. THE RIVERS WOULD RISE! THE VALLEYS WOULD RUN WITH…Steven you’re joking, right?”