“There are so many other people in this school-you don't have to know me." "But I want to," he replied with a grin.”

“What are those people doing?" Jenna whispered to me. "I don't know," I replied through a frozen grin, "but I'm afraid a musical number might be involved.”

“Then he muttered like he was talking to himself, "I don't know if I want her to figure out she's fuckin' gorgeous so she isn't so fuckin' clueless when a player marks her or if I'm glad I finally got one who looks as good as her and has no fuckin' clue.""Are you wanting me to participate in this discussion or are you having a conversation with yourself?""You're participation isn't required," Sam replied... and I looked up to see him grinning.”

“…* to know a lot of people I love pieces of, and to want to synthesize those pieces in me somehow, be it by painting or writing. * to know that millions of others are unhappy and that life is a gentleman's agreement to grin and paint your face gay so others will feel they are silly to be unhappy, and try to catch the contagion of joy, while inside so many are dying of bitterness and unfulfillment…”

“He reflected. 'I know a lot of different kids of people; what I want is to show each of them how the others really are. You hear so many lies! ”

“I don't mean to be rude' I said, 'but what are you people?''We're peculiar,' he replied, sounding a bit puzzled. 'Aren't you?;'I don't know. I don't think so''That's a shame.”