“Megan had accustomed herself to receiving the third degree about her dates. His name is Dillon Carver.He's the same age as me, and also a senior. He has no family history of insanity or premature baldness. He doesn't smoke, drink or do drugs, but he does have a vicious Dr Pepper habit. I'll let you know how big his penis is after the dance.”

“I was walking home alone late one night, when out of nowhere, this rabid homosexual jumped me and bit me right on the ass. I tried to fight him off, but you know those homos have superhuman strength. Anyway, he bit me on my left cheek, then took off. The whole thing shook me up, but I thought I was gonna be okay. It took me a few weeks to notice the changes. At first the signs were subtle: the sudden urge to redecorate my room, the uncontrollable desire to do Megan's hair. Then, as the phases of the moon progressed, I noticed other things: the need to wear lace panties, the insane hope of one day owning my own flower shop. Before I knew it, I was jacking off six times a day to pictures of Brad Pitt and Russell Crowe. Of course, I won't be a full fledged gay boy until I bite someone else and pass on the 'dark gift. Hey, Rooster, you wanna be my first convert? If I turn just four people, I win like a toaster oven or something..”

“Hell, Tate hadn't been to church in so long, he even wasn't sure they still held it on Sundays.”

“When he trapped you and the Jew?" "His name was David ben Eliezer." That he had a name, that he was a man, that he mattered, all had to be acknowledged by someone. The task seemed to fall to me.”

“But he didn’t know the half of it. That it wasn’t just his refusal that had haunted her. It was him. Everything about him.”

“Dear God, I prayed, all unafraid(as we're inclined to do),I do not need a handsome manbut let him be like You;I do not need one big and strongnor yet so very tall,nor need he be some genius,or wealthy, Lord, at all;but let his head be high, dear God,and let his eye be clear,his shoulders straight, whate'er his state,whate'er his earthly sphere;and let his face have character,a ruggedness if soul,and let his whole life show, dear God,a singleness of goal;then when he comes(as he will come)with quiet eyes aglow,I'll understand that he's the manI prayed for long ago.”

“A smile crept to her lips. “What does the ‘F’ stand for?” she asked. He blinked a moment in confusion, and then recalled the nameplate on his desk: Hon. F. Darcy. “What do you think it stands for?” he countered. “Do you really have any doubt what I think it stands for?” she said, smirking. “Contrary to popular belief, my mother did not name me F*cker. It’s Fitzwilliam.”