“I’m a ball of rage right now, James. Sitting isn’t gonna do much.”

“What about James?”“James? James, the guy I work with? James who takes ice cream scooping more seriously than anyone should? James who almost had a nervous breakdown when the chocolate and rainbow sprinkles accidentally got mixed together? That James?”“He has a good work ethic. And he’s cute.”“Hello, I’m not thirty. I don’t want a good work ethic yet. I just want someone who can form complete sentences.”

“I liked James and James liked me and we both knew it and if you think about it, that's like a miracle. A real miracle. Everyone says that babies are miracles, and don't get me wrong, I love cute little pudgy babies, but if you think about it, me having a baby right now would not be a miracle. At all. But finding someone that gets me? That's the real work. That's where the miracles are.”

“This isn't television! This isn't a movie! Giles and Buffy aren't gonna appear and show us how to deal with our wonderful new powers! Some fricking owl isn't gonna come sailing in through your window from Hogwarts! There's no Dumbledore! The Cullens aren't gonna show up and invite you to live with them in Forks! There's nothing! This isn't make believe! This is it! It's us and only us.”

“The Cullens aren't gonna show up and invite you to come live with them in Forks!”

“So do I kill myself now, or do I wait and do it in front of Evan so he feels really, really, really bad?”

“You have to turn it up so that your chest shakes and the drums get in between your ribs like a heartbeat and the bass goes up your spine and fizzles your brain and all you can do is dance or spin in a circle or just scream along because you know that however this music makes you feel, it’s exactly right.”