“If you already know theanswer, Ms. Lane, don’t waste my time. You just wasted a month of it.”-Barrons”

“Oh, please," I rolled my eyes, "You're a leftie, Barrons.""Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmured.”

“He raised a brow. 'Petunia, Ms. Lane?'I scowled. "Ass, Barrons.”

“Maybe you need to get a grip on your libido, Barrons!"Fuck you, Ms. Lane!"You just try. I‘ll kick the shit out of you!"You think you could?"Bring it on." He grabbed a fistful of my T-shirt, and dragged me up against him until our noses touched.I‘ll bring it on, Ms. Lane. But remember you asked for it. So don‘t even think about trying to tap out on the mat and quit the fight."You hear anybody crying ‗Uncle‘ here, Barrons? I don‘t."Fine."Fine.”

“You…you need to move on,” I managed. Yes, that was a sound reason. “You need to find someone else. You know I don’t—that I can’t. Well, you know. You’re wasting your time with me.”He remained firm. “It’s my time to waste.”

“Lisa: It just seems a bit of a waste.Ed: Waste of what?Lisa: Waste of time… of life.Ed: That’s the point, isn’t it? To waste time until you die. You have to waste the time.”