The only time I can ever remember Steven crying over any of it was after my treatment, when I tried to use my foot on his bass drum pedal, and we realized I could never play a drum set.

He also said that if anyone did anything to mess up the rest of the testing, he was going to call 911 personally. Yeah, like that wouldn't make it into the nightly news again: WHEELCHAIR-BOUND CANCER PATIENT ARRESTED FOR FREE SPEECH.

Chicks dig a dude who’s sporting the latest eggplant turtleneck styles.

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.

What do you call a planet where bad guys stroll through life with success draped around their shoulders like a King’s cloak, while random horrors are visited upon the innocent heads of children? I call it Earth.

Renee was beautiful, but she was my friend now. On the other hand, Annette was my friend, but now she was beautiful. makes about as much sense as anything ever does with girls

...my little blurb wasn't going to win me any speaker-of-the-year awards, but at least I hadn't tripped and fallen off the stage, crushing and killing three elderly jazz fans.