Hi, Max," she said, pushing her shades up onto her curls. "I hope your wearing sunscreen," i said, “your gonna have hella wrinkles by the time your ten.” “Want some daiquiri?” she offered, pointing at a blender. “Is it traitor flavored?” I asked.

Angel?" I said. "Baby penguins eat a regurgitated mixture of partially digested fish, krill, and an oily substance form their fathers' stomachs. Are you willing to eat a bunch of raw fish and krill, and then barf it back up into a baby penguin's cute, cheeping mouth? Like, every hour?" Sometimes my crushing logic astounds even me.

So the first thing we're gonna do," I told him, "is push you off the roof.

I did know that the book would end with a mind-boggling trial, but I didn't know exactly how it would turn out. I like a little suspense when I am writing, too.

living life was like putting the beach into a jar. The point wasn’t to fit everything in; it was to attend to the most important things first—the big, beautiful rocks—the most valuable people and experiences—and fit the lesser things in around them. Otherwise, the best things might get left out

Dr. Martinez: "I take it you don't want me to call your parent?" Max: "Uh, no." Hello, lab? May I speak to the test tube please?

Then I went to bed and cried into my pillow. I wasn't sad, not at all. It was just so beautiful to have an intense feeling and the right words at the same time. What are we but our stories?