“Sounds like you've got it all planned out.""Honey, I've got more plans than Wes has ugly shoes.""And that's a lot." I laugh."It sure is," she says with a sigh.”

“Plans get you into things but you've got to work your way out.”

“The time you've got me running. The time, you've got me tired. Well I've got more for the world than this.And I've got love that I need to give.”

“Sadie got up and kissed Amos on the forehead. “Leave it to us, Uncle. I’ve got a plan.”“That,” I said, “sounds like very bad news.”

“Fair enough" I gave him. "But you've got really nice shoes." He blinked, then cast a dubious glance at his boots. "They were in my closet." I snorted and plucked at the sleeves of his jacket. "Please you've been planning this outfit for a week.”

“You're fucked. You thought you were going to be someone, but now it's obvious you're nobody. You haven't got as much talent as you thought you had, and there was no Plan B, and you got no skills and no education, and now you're looking at forty or fifty years of nothing. Less than nothing, probably. That's pretty heavy. That's worse than having the brain thing, because what you got now will take a lot longer to kill you. You've got the choice of a slow, painful death, or a quick, merciful one.”