“Oh, fuck Zen,” she muttered. “I’ll get enlightened when I die.”

“He tapped into the Zen of ignorance, the enlightenment of absurdity.”

“Holy crap,” Mindy whispered.“Jesus Christ,” Brody muttered.“Oh my God,” I breathed.“What the fuck?” Max clipped.”

“When one of the emperors of China asked Bodhidharma (the Zen master who brought Zen from India to China) what enlightenment was, his answer was, “Lots of space, nothing holy.” Meditation is nothing holy. Therefore there’s nothing that you think or feel that somehow gets put in the category of “sin.” There’s nothing that you can think or feel that gets put in the category of “bad.” There’s nothing that you can think or feel that gets put in the category of “wrong.” It’s all good juicy stuff—the manure of waking up, the manure of achieving enlightenment, the art of living in the present moment.”

“HELLO! Look at me. HELLO! I am so ZEN. This is BLOOD. This is NOTHING. Hello. Everything is nothing, and it's so cool to be ENLIGHTENED. Like me.”

“(Olivia) “I’m stopping at the next exit for gas. I’ll get rid of the scrubs. You get out and walk around or by the time we get to Miami you’ll be too stiff to move.”“Don’t worry, when I get stiff I move very well,” he muttered as he turned to face away.“I heard that.”