“I went to a foot specialist recently and she said:"You've broken a bone, it's healed funny.""What can you do?""Not much."She strapped me up though and that's the reason my foot is hurting, because the strapping gave me cramp.When I'm about to die I'm going to head ti a swamp so I topple in when the time comes. In 50,000 years when they dig me up, pretty well preserved, the scientists will have to work out what sort of life I led from my bone structure, teeth and whatnot. Maybe I'll be clutching a Felt record or something to give them a clue. They'll look at my foot and say: "This man broke a bone and it's healed funny." And they'll look at the Felt record, analysing the grooves with a Groove Analyser and they'll say: "He was obviously in an indie band and one day the pressure got too much, and he booted a wall." And they wouldn't be far from the truth, those crazy scientists.”

“I often wonder what she's thinking," says Ed, still gazing up at her. "That's quite an intriguing expression she has.""I often wonder that myself," chimes in Malcolm Gledhill eagerly. "She seems to have such a look of serenity and happiness...Obviously, from what you've said, she has a certain emotional connection with the painter Malory...I often wonder if he was reading her poetry as he painted...""What an idiot this man is," says Sadie scathingly in my ear. "It's obvious I what I'm thinking. I'm looking at Stephan and I'm thinking, I want to jump his bones.""She wanted to jump his bones," I say to Malcolm Gledhill. Ed shoots me a disbelieving look, then bursts into laughter.”

“My mom tries to comfort me by saying that girls like Heather Campbell tend to peak early in life and then quickly fade. That's why she looks so much better than everyone now. But by the time I go to my ten-year reunion, I'll be way prettier than she is. To which I always reply with the same statement, "I don't want to be pretty in ten years. I want to be pretty now."Because what good is it to me now that I might or might not be drop-dead gorgeous when I'm twenty-seven? It's not like I can go to school every day with a big cardboard sign around my neck that says, "Trust me, in ten years, I'll look like this." And then an arrow pointing to a picture of a supermodel.”

“He's quite a bit of a snob, you know, and when he hears I'm going to marry the daughter of an earl - ""I say, old man," I couldn't help saying, "aren't you looking ahead rather far?""Oh, that's all right. It's true nothing's actually settled yet, but she practically told me the other day she was fond of me.""What!""Well, she said that the sort of man she liked was the self-reliant, manly man with strength, good looks, character, ambition, and initiative.""Leave me, laddie," I said. "Leave me to my fried egg.”

“So, what you're saying is that I bring out your book - wielding, short tempered side?" He hooked his foot through the straps of my backpack and brought in front of him. "Removing temptation."I gave him a look that communicated he should wither and die.”

“Listen up, BIG SHOTS, BIGWIGS, and MUCKETY-MUCKS! What am I dressed for?" I'll ask.Success!" they'll yell.And what do clothes make?" I'll ask.The man!" they'll answer.Then it should come as no surprise when I say,I GOT BIG PLANS! BIG PLANS, I SAY!"I'm in!" says the mynah bird.”