“a kind of emptiness existed in the center of my bagel; really it was just the hole that's in the middle of all bagels; 'i need to go read my blog to find out what my politics are”

“If my love were a bagel, I’d put cream cheese on it. But it’s not a bagel, so I just put cheddar on top. Would you like to try a sample?”

“Well, schmear my bagel, if it isn't Mara Dyer.”

“Mmm, butt bagels." Elody reaches into the bag and pulls out a bagel, half squashed, then makes a big deal of taking an enormous bite out of it. "Taste like Victoria's Secret.""Taste like thong floss," I say."Taste like crack," Lindsay says."Taste like fart," Elody says, and Lindsay spits coffee on the dashboard, and I start laughing and can't stop, and all the way to school we're thinking of flavors for butt bagels, and I'm thinking that this---my life, my friends---might be weird or screwy or imperfect or damaged or whatever, but it's never seemed better to me.”

“Just out of curiosity, can an immortal choke to death on a bagel? (Francesca)”

“Two days ago, Tuesday at 10:10 am, I gave birth to a bagel. And God commanded me to slice up my only begotten bagel in two, and who am I to argue with God? So I did it. Then I ate it. I’m not proud of the last part, but at the time it seemed like the right thing to do.”