“No. I’m not hot, and I don’t want to do the Squeaky Dance.” Simon sighed. This day was full of disappointments.”

“I’m done. I’m old, I’m sad - that’s on a good day. I want out of this mess. But I don’t want to fade away, I want to flame away - I want my death to be an attraction, a spectacle, a mystery. A work of art.”

“When I was a hardworking, pistol-hot writer, I was unknown. Now that I’m a tired old man, they start hollerin’ how good I am. I’m not going to analyze what that all means. I’m just determined not to let it turn my life into something I don’t want it to be.”

“I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry, I’m still full of existential fear.”

“You’re probably right,” sighed Vance. “I haven’t any coruscatin’ arguments to combat you with. Only, I’m disappointed. I don’t like anticlimaxes, especially when they don’t jibe with my idea of the dramatist’s talent. Pardee’s death at this moment is too deuced neat—it clears things up too tidily. There’s too much utility in it, and too little imagination.”

“But at the end of the day it’s like, we want to walk out of here, not be dragged out here on a stretcher. I just don’t trust myself as much as I used to. And I don’t know if it’s age—I’m a little bit more nervous when I do gymnastics. I feel like I’m also not having as much fun, and I know that.”

“I just want a hot cup of coffee, black, and I don’t want to hear about your troubles.”

“Perhaps I’m hiding from myself. Perhaps I don’t want to be what I’m supposed to be. Or perhaps I don’t want to keep living the life I already started to live.”

“I just didn’t want to see myself fall back. I don’t want to disappoint my coaches or my parents.”

“Life is full of disappointments. And by "disappointments" I mean "people."”