Every tounge bit had another word to say.

Nobody had told me I was common.

That's the number one thing I hear about humans. You have all these choices, so you're confused all the time, and you think so much that you're never happy.

I like you a lot. Because you’re funny and smart and because you seem to like me. I know that’s not a good reason, but I can’t help it; if a girl likes me I tend to like her back [...] I like you for all this stuff but I also kind of like you for the cuts on your face—

I feel dead, wasted, awful, broken and useless. It's not the kind of feeling you forget.

Life can't be cured, but it can be managed.

Yes, Doctor. I'll do what you say. I'll do what you all say.