“For a moment we sit in silence. Eventually, I turn to him and say, "Do you believe in God?" His eyes narrow for a moment and he stares at me at me for a while. Stares in a rather intense way, like a doctor looking at a troubling X-ray. Then he looks out the and says in a voice like shattered glass, "Only in storms.”

“MARK! What the hell are you doing? That's revolting. Stop that immediately.'And that's when Mark looks up at me and says, in a matter-of-fact voice, 'Batman has pendicitus. He has to have a ternal zamination.- Cat”

“She looks at my father, the human jaffa. 'Hey Dr Davis. You're looking...''Orange,' I say matter-of-factly. I turn and look at her, 'Trust me, you don't wanna know.'- Cat”

“Why would I care whether or not the seats were padded?'And then I look up, biting my lip, and I watch as the realisation hits him.'OH MY GOD. You know? He told you?''I walked in on my little brother playing doctor this morning with his dolls. Put it this way, Harry Potter was giving Batman the finger and not in the way you'd expect.'- Cat”

“My father is standing at the sink wearing a too-tight long-sleeved red T-Shirt, a pair of too-high jeans and sporting the type of orange glow that belongs only on Chernobyl victims. Plus his hair looks like an oil spill.'Hey you,' he says, washing what looks to be some carrots under the sink. Are they carrots or are they parsnips reflecting the sheen of my father's tangerine skin? Hard to tell.'You've fake tanned yourself again,' I say - it's a statement, not a question. 'Too much?' he says, innocently. 'I just didn't want to be one of those pasty office workers and I thought it wouldn't hurt to back up last week's application with another hit.''Dad, you look-''Sun kissed?''Radioactive. And what the hell happened to your hands?'- Cat”

“I feel like saying something back to her. Something like, 'Eat hanger, bitch.' Except that Skeletor here doesn't look like she's eaten anything at all since last October. But I don't say anything, of course. Instead I stand there and take shit from someone who looks like a praying mantis in drag.- Cat”

“Five minutes later and the three of us are pushing through the heavy, swinging doors of the Brisbane Watchhouse. A place that at six on a Tuesday evening looks like Little Nimbin - we're the only ones wearing shoes. 'Remind me what we're here to get - you know, apart from head lice and maybe tinea?' I say to no one in particular.- Cat”