“Some women like to treat a man like a piece of bubble gum. The poor sap thinks everything’s fine. And it is—until the taste runs out. Then she’ll just spit him out the car window of her life and never look back.”

“...tasting a piece of bread that someone bought is like looking at that person, but tasting a piece of bread that they baked is like looking out of their eyes.”

“It’s totally fine,” I explained to Liz as she paced back and forth behind the couch. “She’s totally housebroken. She’ll go to the door and spit on it when she needs to go out.”

“He gagged and spat the mouthful out on the carpet. He glared at the bottle. “Bubble gum–flavored vodka? Bubble gum?”

“How does it taste?” Carter wondered.Zia smiled. “Stick out your tongue.”To answer Carter’s question, the tattoo tasted like burning car tires.“Ugh.” I spit a blue gob of “order and harmony” into the fountain.”

“All of life is like raindrops on the window; some stick around for a little while and some just fall right out of the picture.”