I hung my head, and I felt someone, Fang, gather me gently to him. My cheek rested on his shoulder, and my silent tears soaked his torn shirt.He felt warm and strong and heartbreakingly familiar. And at that moment, not a single thing in my life was certain, strong, or whole. Nothing. Least of all Fang.

I don't think of myself as a writer.

Iggy. This is not a democracy," I said,(...)"It's a Maxocracy.

Who ya gonna call?" "Ghostbusters!" "That phrase is ruined forever.

We try not to encourage demonstrations of his mastery of the gaseous arts.

Fang: When do I get out of here? Max: They say a week. Fang: So, like, tomorrow? Max: That's what I'm thinking.

At that moment I had no mind to change, or not change, or throw against the nearest wall.