I don't like to brag, but I can suck the engine block through the tailpipe of a '58 Chevy.

How come if God talks to Joseph Smith, he's a prophet, but if God talks to me I'm schizophrenic?

Maybe you could try and reach down in your Bible geek soul and be cool for just two seconds?

Ok asshole, the way I see it you've got a big mouth and only one arm to back it up. So's how's it gonna look when a big flamer kicks the shit out of you?

Dammit, what's wrong with you? You want revelations engraved in gold and angels trumpeting down from heaven. But what if this is it instead? Me telling you I love you, right here, in the snow? I think that's pretty miraculous.

I mean, LA is a city where everyone dances with one eye on the door, like we're all waiting for something better to walk in. But would we ever recognise it if we did? It might be nice to stop circling. it might be nice to stop equating sex with a handshake. It might be nice to have it mean something.

When I first came to Los Angeles, it looked like just this mass of dots, all jumbled and disconnected. ...It was pretty disorienting.

Look at yourself. You're so pretty and colorful on the outside, but inside you're nothing but fluff. You're like a walking, talking marshmallow Peep!

I can't believe what I was about to do, when there is nothing, Christian, nothing about you that is not skin-deep.