“I can't believe she tricked me into spending another day with her. I have a life, I want to tell her. I have four episodes of Myth Busters to catch up on. Okay, I don't have a life.”

“What have you done with Hetty?" he demanded."Listened to her incessant prattle, complaints, tears, demands, artless conversation and recriminations for more than twenty-four hours. You will be pleased to know I didn't touch her—if I had I would have throttled her. Take her away, if you please. I'd rather spend the rest of my life a pauper than have to spend even another day with the divine Miss Chippie.”

“When my mother would tell me that she wanted me to have something because she as a child had never had it, I wanted, or I partly wanted, to give it back. All my life I continued to feel that bliss for me would have to imply my mother's deprivation or sacrifice. I don't think it would have occurred to her what a double emotion I felt, and indeed I know that it was being unfair to her, for what she said was simply the truth.”

“I have to keep movingI don't want to thinkI'm going to work all day todayI don't want to stopDon't want to let my brain catch up my thoughtsHow will I be able to tell them that I'm a shadowA grey patch of cold rotting life”

“I want to tell her that I can't pull her down. I want to tell her that she has to let go of my hand in order to swim. I want to tell her that she must live her own life. But I sense she already knows that these options are open to her. And that she, too, has made her choice.”

“I have to go. I have a finite amount of life left and I don't want to spend it arguing with you.”