Don't feel bad, Angela," Kami said. "You know guys, they only want one thing. Repartee. I can't count how many times men have admired my well-turned phrases.

I hate this, I want this to stop, how are we supposed to live with this, and how am I supposed to walk away? You’re real and I hate you for it.

It’s bits of dead cow; don’t ask it to perform miracles.

On the morning of the fourth day, Jamie tipped a switchblade out of his box of cornflakes. “I think these promotional campaigns have really got out of hand,” he said, freezing with his hand on the milk carton. “One shiny free knife with every packet of cereal bought is not a good message to send out to the kiddies.

Words felt so clumsy when she was talking about feelings and not facts.

Chimes?" Phyllis asked. "Chimes to call a lover? Chimes with the voice of a bird trapped in them? Chimes that play you whatever song you most desire to hear?" "No thanks," said Nick. "We've got MTV.

Sorry-in-the-Vale, Sorriest River, Crying Pools," said Jared. "Is the quarry called Really Depressed Quarry?