“So I’m into men now, even though they can be frightening. I want a schedule-keeping, waking-up-early, wallet-carrying, non-Velcro-shoe-wearing man.”

“I’m going to carry you now,” he told her, “so we can move even faster. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Any response from you is unnecessary and unwelcome.”

“But you’re human, aren’t you? (Kat)
I’m human, except when I first wake up in the morning. Even I don’t want to be around myself then. (Kish)”

“I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I’m being drowned by some kind of black wave.”

“I don't know about other people, but when I wake up in the morning and put my shoes on, I think, Jesus Christ, now what?”

“I’m still wearing my shoes, I realize. And I’m still wearing this fucking suit. I didn’t even take it off for the flight—I must be turning into a manager or something. I have a sudden urge to wash compulsively. At least the tie’s snaked off to wherever the horrid things live when they’re not throttling their victims.”

“If you want to see a man come to his senses, try something like, Do you happen to carry a rubber in your wallet? Did I mention I'm not on the pill?”

““I wake up in the morning and sometimes I just want to wear a T-shirt and blue jeans and now I have to force myself to do that, because I can’t care what people think, you know?...”

“Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?”

“I’m frightened that one morning there will not be enough to keep me going.”