“How do you know all this?""Well I don't know what you people from Colorado call it, but around here we call it American History and it's mandatory for all juniors.”

“How do we know we're not people in a movie?' she asked.I looked at her not knowing how to reply.Mama, [...] how do we know that things are real?'Great. Now we have a junior existentialist in the house.Well, we don't know. We just have to hope that what we think is real is real.'But how do we know?' she asked, insistently.Ah, a scientist, who wants empirical evidence.We don't know. We just have to hope.'Mama, how do we know things aren't a dream? You know, how sometimes life feels like a dream? Do you ever feel that way?'Yes, sweetie, I feel that way all the time.”

“You can't drive them around in the getaway van.' 'How about we don't call it the getaway van? People might get suspicious.' 'So what should we call it?' 'How about the van?' 'It doesn't change what it is and that it's a shitty thing to do. Someone might see them in it.”

“You know what the issue is? Do you want to know? It's what these guys have decided to call America. They have the audacity to say, 'There, you sons of bitches, don't lay a finger on it. That is a finished product.'""But any country is still in the making. Always. That's just history, people have to see that.”

“One large soy latte." [...]"You mean a Venti," [...]"What?" I ask"A Venti," he says. " that's what we call larger here. You know that Hannah.""Well, whatever," I say, my bad mood deepening. "Whatever you call them, that's what I want." They should just call them larger. How stupid.”

“Do you know what they call themselves, all these people?" Alyss shook her head. How could she know? "Alyssians." Bibwit spelled it out. Her heart gave a little jump. Alyssians? No, they ask too much of me. "I don't think I'm ready for all of this," she said.”