“I smirk. There is no weird pillow talk and no pretending we're soft delicate people. No apologies, limits yes, but no shame.”

“Weird people don't care if they're weird. They are the most entertaining to converse with because nothing is off-limits.”

“Son, let me tell you something. Even if you don't care, pretend you do. Honestly, it's the best way to go," Dad, the voice of experience, decided to wade in. "She talks about toss pillows. You don't care about toss pillows. You don't even know what toss pillows are. Pretend that toss pillows are your highest priority in life.”

“She really talks to you, doesn't she?" She asked. "it's not just you talking to her. She talks BACK.""hel, half the time she starts it." I said, half-defensively. "I know it's weird.""Well, yes, it's weird. Technically, I think it's insane. But who am I to judge?" Maggie shrugged. "I live in a house most people view as the setting of a horror movie waiting to happen, with an army of security ninjas and a couple dozen epileptic dogs for company. I don't think I'm qualified to pass judgement on 'weird'.”

“It was a spring day, the sort that gives people hope: all soft winds and delicate smells ofwarm earth. Suicide weather.”

“I don't pretend to be captain weird. I just do what I do.”