“How much does your life have to suck to want the Apocalypse?”

“Rapture cults had packed their suitcases and were massing together in great vigils, waiting for the end."All bogus," she'd told Zuzana. "Just a bunch of crackpots waiting for the Apocalypse.""Because, fun, right?" Zuzana rubbed her hands together in mock glee. "Oh, boy. The Apocalypse!""Right? I know. How much does your life have to suck to want the Apocalypse?”

“Yeah, and by the way? How much does it suck that I'm an adult if I kill somebody, and not if I want a beer?”

“If you have good friends, no matter how much life is sucking , they can make you laugh.”

“If you think your life sucks, it probably does. Do something about it.”

“You're still here. No beer. I'm not corrupting a minor.""But you're a minor," she pointed out. "At least for beer.""Yeah, and by the way, how much does it suck that I'm an adult if I kill somebody, and I'm not if I want a beer?”