“The character I’m playing in the film is this driven, workaholic lawyer who has never lost a case. When I’m playing him . . .” He paused, his voice softening. Somehow they were now standing just inches apart. “I think of you.” When their eyes met, Jason grinned and added, “With a penis.”

“his discomfort seemed to soften her, for when he met her eyes again, they were kind.”

“And I know that the past version of me is someone you would never trust. But who I am when I’m with you” he paused, “isn’t who I used to be. I don’t think I’ve been that guy since the night of our first date, so it’s not fair that you judge me like I’m still him.”

“Can you believe him? I think the boy has lost his goddamn mind. Who the fuck plays tug with a crocodile?”

“He was just a kid. He didn’t care. He was like, “I’m getting in my mom’s van and I’m going home.” I was just a kid, too. But I cared. With him gone, who was I going to play Plato and Socrates with?
”

“I used to tell interviewers that I wrote every day except for Christmas, the Fourth of July, and my birthday. That was a lie. I told them that because if you agree to an interview you have to say something, and it plays better if it’s something at least half-clever. Also, I didn’t want to sound like a workaholic dweeb (just a workaholic, I guess). The truth is that when I’m writing, I write every day, workaholic dweeb or not. That includes Christmas, the Fourth, and my birthday (at my age you try to ignore your goddam birthday anyway). And when I’m not working, I’m not working at all, although during those periods of full stop I usually feel at loose ends with myself and have trouble sleeping. For me, not working is the real work.”