“Really, if that’s the case, you need to stop letting your mother dress you funny. It’s hard to take anyone serious as a killer when he looks like an investment banker. The only part of me that’s nervous is my checkbook. (Kat)”

“When it’s quiet in my head like this, that’s when the voice doesn’t need to tell me how pathetic I am. I know it in the deepest part of me. When it’s quiet like this, that’s when I truly hate myself.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you're thinking seriously of building that way, when and if you are an architect?”“Yes.”“My dear fellow, who will let you?”“That’s not the point. The point is, who will stop me?”

“Wait. Let me guess. You’re giving me the cold shoulder, right?”With that, she sighed. “Shouldn’t you be with your friends, staring at yourselves in the mirror?”He laughed. “That’s funny. I’ll have to remember that.”“I’m not being funny. I’m being serious.”“Oh, because we’re so good-looking”

“You’re attracted to me?” “Oh, God,” I groan. “That’s the last thing you need for your ego.” “That’s probably true,” he laughs. “Better hurry up and insult me before my ego gets as big as yours.” “You need a hair cut,” I blurt out. “Really bad. It gets in your eyes and you squint and you’re constantly moving it out of the way like you’re Justin Bieber and it’s really distracting.”

“That’s a funny thing: you think, when awful things happen, everything else just stops, like you would forget to pee and eat and get thirsty, but it’s not really true. It’s like you and your body are two separate things, like your body is betraying you, chugging on, idiotic and animal, craving water and sandwiches and bathroom breaks while your world falls apart.”