“How is dear Charlotte?’ Celia asked sweetly, then launched into an account of how they’d been having their usual ‘Fucking shut up’, ‘No, you fucking shut up’, row a couple of evenings ago, when Yuri had opened the front door of their flat to scream up the stairs, ‘Why don’t both of you fucking shut up?”

“When in doubt, shut the fuck up.”

“Nobody knows how to just shut the fuck up and look out the window anymore.”

“If you don't agree with me, I have two words for you: shut the fuck up.”

“Just shut up. Shut the fuck up, you stupid, uptight, don't drink, don't smoke, don't fuck, don't do anything that might almost be interpreted as fun, sanctimonious little fucking virgin. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck, I've had enough. I'm not going to this fucking meeting, I don't care what happens to the fucking family, you can tell Athena what the fuck you like, just as long as you get out of my fucking face and stay out of it. - Apollo”

“If I'd managed any of these ifs-- would I have been able to avoid the inevitable fuck-up, the full-force fuck-off? My pride shut me up, my heart shut me down, and together they ganged up on my hope and let her get away.”