Who’s that? That’s the King. Who’s he? The Duke. Who’s she? The Princess. What do they call you? The Count. What does that make me? Umm…how about the Peasant? And the name stuck.

And if there was one thing I'd finally figured out, it was that your mind is something you always CAN change.

I seriously think I could have sat in the middle of the kitchen floor rubbing two sticks together over a pile of dynamite blocks and gasoline cans, and my parents would be oblivious, as long as I was keeping myself occupied.

Oh, good lord, Jeff. Don't go getting all emotional on me. I've been getting it from my mom, my dad, my sister, the freaking MAILMAN--I don't need it from you, too. All I ask is that you promise me one thing.' 'What?' 'Just water the plants while I'm gone, all right?' 'You don't have plants, Tad.' 'I know. I just always wanted to say that.

Did you really JUST fall, Jeffrey? Why does everybody in my family talk in these dramatic CAPITAL LETTERS all the time? Why am I the only calm one?

Or maybe...their biggest fear is that they will get close to you again, and you'll go and drop dead.

It was a cheesy cheeseball, covered with Cheez Whiz and served on a bed of Cheez-Its. With a side of queso.