“Is Adrian here?”
“Who?”
“Adrian. Tall. Brown hair. Green eyes.”
She frowned. “Do you mean Jet?”
“I … I’m not sure. Does he smoke like a chimney?”
The girl nodded sagely. “Yup. You must mean Jet.”

“When I was a kid, I was into The New York Jets. And then I got into girls as I got older, and then I got back into the Jets because I'd realized there's times when the girl won't f*^k you, but the Jets will always f*^k you.”

“What is it with you and girls, Adrian, dear? Why do they either mean nothing to you or everything? It's always an extreme."
"Because I don't do things in halves, mom. Especially when it comes to love.”

“Adrian! You Used compulsion on that guy. That…. I mean, it's….."

"Awesome? Yeah, I Know”

“Sage,” Adrian declared. “These hands don’t do manual labor.”

“I nodded. "Yup. What I did was tantamount to treason in their eyes."
"I don't know what 'tantamount' means, but it sounds pretty serious.”

“You look confused," said Adrian.
I shook my head and sighed. "I think I'm just overthinking things."
He nodded solemnly. "That's why I try to never do it.”

“Do you know where to find a party or something?”
“I’m Adrian Ivashkov,” I declared. “The parties find me.”

“Adrian frowned.
'Is that a noose?'
'It's a tie!' I cried, trying not to feel offended. He laughed, clearly delighted at this.
'My mistake.”

“I see colors like you hear jet planes.”