“He'd probably spent as much time practicing scales as he had jacking off.”

“Why was it considered normal for a girl to live for fashion and makeup, but not car engines or bugs? And what about sports fanatics? My mom had a boyfriend who would flip out if he missed even a minute of a football game. Wouldn't that be what doctors considered autistic behavior?”

“He said, 'Jasmine actually seemed like part of the band tonight.'" A smile twitched his lips. "Then he questioned his sanity.”

“Do you have a name I asked?" I asked."Yes." He stared back at me, blinking."What is it?""Clover." He looked away and typed something into the computer. His mouth kept twitching, like he was trying to hold in laughter."Seriously?"He pushed his sleeve up, giving me a view of a blue clover tattooed on his forearm. "I'm half Irish."And half shithead.”

“Maybe I was being naive. Even stupid. I mean, who would trade Standford for being homeless? [...] But I had to know if I was meant to be a musician. Otherwise I'd spend the rest of my life regretting it. Asking myself... what if?”

“If you like someone, you tell the truth because that, to me, is respect. If you hate someone, you tell them the truth because what do you have to lose?”

“Normal is an ideal. But it’s not reality. Reality is brutal, it’s beautiful, it’s every shade between black and white, and it’s magical. Yes, magical. Because every now and then, it turns nothing into something.”