“Oh, the testosterone. You could have cut it with a cafeteria spoon.”

“I wasn't sure if the word boys should mean dim or incomprehensible. I was hovering between the two, with a healthy dose of testosterone-poisoned.”

“It could have been possible to put a little more fuck you into his tone, but some of it might've slopped out the sides.”

“Oh God, Oh God we’re all gonna die doesn’t really fit the definition of banter, now does it?”

“Oh, dear me." Nathalie sank back down in the chair and examined her Uggs. "The sarcasm could've started dripping off her and stained the floor. "Is it conspiracy, treachery, murder, or open warfare? I'll have to choose my lipstick accordingly.”

“Almost sure wasn't good enough. Almost sure, in my experience, is the shortest road to oh fuck.”

“First you find out what you have , Dad would say. Then you figure out how to make it work for what you need, 'cause you don't get what you want. You get just what you have and no more. ”