“I love it when you're demented like this.”

“I'd run you know. It's like when you're really busy doing something and you don't have time to think about things. Well, I'd run and run and run so I couldn't think.”

“Do you think people have noticed that I'm around?”“I notice when you're not. Does that count?”

“He takes out a cigarette and offers one to me. "I try not to indulge. It's a filthy habit," I tell him. "I love that word filthy. I love the way you force it out of your mouth like it's some kind of vermin you want to get rid of." "You've had vermin in your mouth?" "You're mean in that way, you know. You don't let anyone get away with pathetic analogies.”

“I miss the Stella girls telling me what I am. That I'm sweet and placid and accommodating and loyal and nonthreatening and good to have around. And Mia. I want her to say, "Frankie, you're silly, you're lazy, you're talented, you're passionate, you're restrained, you're blossoming, you're contrary." I want to be an adjective again. But I'm a noun. A nothing. A nobody. A no one.”

“I think I'm a bit in love with these girls. They make me feel giddy. Like I haven't a care in the world. Like I'm fearless.Like I used to be.”

“It's shit punk.[..] That doesn't mean I think punk is shit [...] it means that when someone plays unk ina shit-like manner, it's excruciating. So either find yourself yourself a good punk band or move on, Tom. Because it kills me to say this, but you're actually a tiny bit gifted.”