New York is strange in the summer. Life goes on as usual but it’s not, it’s like everyone is just pretending, as if everyone has been cast as the star in a movie about their life, so they’re one step removed from it. And then in September it all gets normal again.

Unfortunately I have never been good in math. Numbers simply do not interest me or seem as real to me as words.

I knew my mother was right, but that didn't change the way I felt about things. People always think that if they can prove they're right, you'll change your mind.

You're so young... Are you sure that's what you want your life to be, forever and ever? That job? That career? That girlfriend?

I suppose most people would think that it was wonderful, that the world is so varied, that there is something for everyone, and I don't know why I felt so closed and bitter and threatened by things I did not like.

I thought the best thing to do would be nothing, and in that way things couldn’t get any worse.

It wouldn't kill you to get me an iced coffee." "No, but not getting killed doing something is not a very compelling reason to do it.