“Look, who's the talking bear here?” Quentin snapped. “Is it you? Are you the talking fucking bear? All right. So shut the fuck up.”

“Do you promise to hate my parents as much as I do?""Oh, absolutely," Quentin said. "Maybe even more.”

“Sometimes you just have to do things, Quentin,” Julia said, as he climbed on board after her. “You spend too much of your time waiting.”

“Are you kidding? That guy was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and crudely stapled to a ticking fucking time bomb. He was either going to hit somebody or start a blog.”

“In one huge leather-gloved fist Jollyby held up a large, madly kicking hare by its ears.'Son of a bitch,' Dauntless said. 'He caught it.'Dauntless was a talking horse. She just didn't talk much.”

“Fanfiction is what literature might look like if it were reinvented from scratch after a nuclear apocalypse by a band of brilliant pop-culture junkies trapped in a sealed bunker. They don't do it for money. That's not what it's about. The writers write it and put it up online just for the satisfaction. They're fans, but they're not silent, couchbound consumers of media. The culture talks to them, and they talk back to the culture in its own language.”

“You do realize it's all right to have nice things sometimes, right?”