“I scared myself, because once you've thought long and hard enough about doing something that is colossally stupid, you feel like you've actually done it, and then you're never quite sure what your limits are.”

“When I got to my own face, I found myself staring at it, so bright with dark all around it, like it was someone I didn't recognize. Like a word on a page that you've printed and read a million times, that suddenly looks strange or wrong, foreign, and you feel scared for a second, like you've lost something, even if you're not sure what it is.”

“Oh, boy. Now you see what you've done, Monica Lewinsky, you stupid, stupid tart, I thought. Because of you, I have to explain to my Nana, while she's in a hospital bed with an enlarged gallbladder, what oral sex is. Do you see the damage you've caused? Do you see where your sinful path has led?”

“Life isn't about counting what you've earned or what you've done for others. I think life is in those in-between moments when you do something, and you feel really, truly happy just by doing it.”

“Don't you like to write letters? I do because it's such a swell way to keep from working and yet feel you've done something.”

“Once you've recognized your own limits, you've raised yourself to a higher level of being, since you're closer to the real you...”