“Since I don’t smoke, I decided to grow a mustache – it is better for the health.However, I always carried a jewel-studded cigarette case in which, instead of tobacco, were carefully placed several mustaches, Adolphe Menjou style. I offered them politely to my friends: “Mustache? Mustache? Mustache?”Nobody dared to touch them. This was my test regarding the sacred aspect of mustaches.”

“Never call anyone a baboon unless you are sure of your facts.”

“Brianna dropped the skateboard in front of Sam. “Don’t worry: I won’t let you fall off.”“Yeah? Then why did you bring the helmet?”Brianna tossed it to him. “In case you fall off.”

“Why are you limping like that?’ Nicholas demanded.’I’m swaggering,’ I informed him.’You look like you’re wearing a diaper.’Charming. And I had a crush on this guy.Wait. I had a crush on this guy?’Now what?’ he asked. ‘You’re making weird faces.”Nothing,’ I said quickly. ‘Never mind.”

“I despise the rituals of fake friendship. I wish we could just claw each other’s eyes out and call it a day; instead we put on huge radiant smiles and spout compliments until our teeth hurt from the saccharine sweetness of it all.”

“I remember the time I was kidnapped and they sent a piece of my finger to my father. He said he wanted more proof.”

“My experience in Amsterdam is that cyclists ride where the hell they like and aim in a state of rage at all pedestrians while ringing their bell loudly, the concept of avoiding people being foreign to them.My dream holiday would be a) a ticket to Amsterdam b) immunity from prosecution and c) a baseball bat.”

“Siblings: children of the same parents, each of whom is perfectly normal until they get together.”

“Writers don’t make any money at all. We make about a dollar. It is terrible. But then again we don’t work either. We sit around in our underwear until noon then go downstairs and make coffee, fry some eggs, read the paper, read part of a book, smell the book, wonder if perhaps we ourselves should work on our book, smell the book again, throw the book across the room because we are quite jealous that any other person wrote a book, feel terribly guilty about throwing the schmuck’s book across the room because we secretly wonder if God in heaven noticed our evil jealousy, or worse, our laziness. We then lie across the couch facedown and mumble to God to forgive us because we are secretly afraid He is going to dry up all our words because we envied another man’s stupid words. And for this, as I said, we are paid a dollar. We are worth so much more.”

“Why are they going to disappear him?’I don’t know.’It doesn’t make sense. It isn’t even good grammar.”

“There’s no trouble in this world so serious that it can’t be cured with a hot bath, a glass of whiskey, and the Book of Common Prayer.”

“The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy also mentions alcohol. It says that the best drink in existence is the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, the effect of which is like having your brains smashed out with a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick.”

“Popularity’s a weird thing. You can’t really define it, and it’s not cool to talk about, but you know it when you see it. Like a lazy eye, or porn.”

“I swear, my dear. Sometimes our conversations remind me of a broken sword.”She raised an eyebrow.”Sharp as hell,” Lightsong said, “but lacking a point.”

“You’re Valentine’s son. I’m sure you’re the one the Queen really wants to see. Besides, you’re charming. Maybe not at the moment.”