“I swear that boy can't function without you, not even at lunch.”

“Who's got my Jaffa Cakes? You know I can't function without Jaffa Cakes.”

“You're everything. I can't even breathe without you.”

“Who can fail to mist at Fergie's anthem, 'My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps.' Hmmm. 'My lunch, my lunch, I swear it's coming up.”

“I can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know?”

“We're freaks, the two of us, Franny and I. I'm a twenty-five-year-old freak and she's a twenty-one-year-old freak, and both those bastards are responsible. I swear to you, I could murder them both without batting an eyelash. The great teachers. The great emancipators. My God. I can't even sit down to lunch with a man any more and hold up my end of a decent conversation. I either get so bored or so goddamn preachy that if the son of a bitch had any sense, he'd break his chair over my head”