Simon: That's Disgusting! Me: What's Disgusting? Simon:

No Funny Stuff In Here Tonight, You Understand?” Dash Said, “i Assure You I Could Not Contemplate Any Of Your So-called Funny Stuff Seeing As How I Have No Idea Why I’m Even Here.” Mark Scoffed. “you Bookish Little Pervert.” “thank You, Sir!” Dash Said Brightly.

I Used To Think That When I Got Older, The World Would Make So Much More Sense. But You Know What? The Older I Get, The More Confusing It Is To Me. The More Complicated It Is. Harder. You’d Think We’d Be Getting Better At It. But There’s Just More And More Chaos. The Pieces—they’re Everywhere. And Nobody Knows What To Do About It. I Find Myself Grasping, Nick. You Know That Feeling? That Feeling When You Just Want The Right Thing To Fall Into The Right Place, Not Only Because It’s Right, But Because It Will Mean That Such A Thing Is Still Possible? I Want To Believe In That.

Being With Someone For Over A Year Can Mean That You Love Them … But It Can Also Mean You’re Trapped.

How Can You Spend Hours Every Day Trying In Small Ways To Figure Out Who You Are, Then Have A Near-stranger Give You A Sentence Of Yourself That Says It Better Than You Ever Could?

If I Lose It Now, I Will Lose You, Too. I Know That. I Hate It.