“I’m so lazy as far as liking to get up, go to the office in my pajamas, get dressed about noon. And I hate flying. So I have this really laid-back, good lifestyle, and it’s hard to nudge me out of it.”

A stick or a stone only stings for a minute. A name seems to hurt forever.

The upside to grief is it takes away your appetite. When people say you look good they really mean it. Nature’s thoughtful that way.

I don’t really believe in pretending to be happy when you’re not. Mostly I believe that you should burden your friends with your problems.

I’m not actually sure I’m grown-up enough for grown-up books.

Even though sometimes you can control your anger, you can’t control your sadness.

I don’t even like clowns. Clowns are not normal people.

Sometimes grown ups don’t act their right old age

Can’t we be friends?’ I hate your guts, Frankovitch’ Can’t our guts be friends?

Society just has a way of inhibiting you, which is good and bad.

I happen to think that a book is of extraordinary value if it gives the reader nothing more than a smile or two. It’s perfectly okay to take a book, read it, have a good time, giggle and laugh – and turn off the TV. I love that.

When you’re in between dreams, you get to lean back and relax and stop trying so hard. Trying to be somebody, I mean. It’s not as exciting as being a television star, but it’s not that bad, either. You just have to learn to be satisfied with the way you are for a while. Not Forever. Just until you’re finished resting.

Our nannas are losers.

I was a good kid, but I was just very chatty. Teachers were rarely entertained, but occasionally a child was, which was enough for me. Everything was so urgent. I needed to say it immediately.

Junie B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except, I don’t like Beatrice. I just like B and that’s all.

I find the term perfect child to be an oxymoron.

Sometimes I think he’s the kind of friend that grownups call a ‘fair-weather friend.’ That means when everything’s going smoothly, he’s the best friend a guy could want. But as soon as something goes wrong…(he) sort of turns on you.

But someone once described the contrast between a good life and a godly life as the difference between the top of the ocean and the bottom.

I reckon domesticated cats have a pretty good life.