Angela: It just seems like, you agree to have a certain personality or something. For no reason. Just to make things easier for everyone. But when you think about it, I mean, how do you know it’s even you? And, I mean, this whole thing with yearbook – it’s like, everybody’s in this big hurry to make this book, to supposedly remember what happened. Because if you made a book of what really happened, it’d be a really upsetting book.

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Angela: I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The, like, fact that — that people — had sex. That they just had it, like sex was this thing people — had, like a rash. Or a — a rottweiler. Everything started to seem like, pornographic or something. Like, Mrs. Krysanowski has sex. So does Mr. Katimsky. They both have sex. They could — have sex together. Like right now. I am, like, the sickest person.

Angela: Lately, I can’t even look at my mother without wanting to stab her repeatedly.

Brian: Finally! An erection from actual, physical contact!

Patty: God, Chelsea Clinton. Will you look at this? No freedom, no privacy, constant surveillance, Secret Service men… That’s what we need.

Angela: If only there were a button somewhere that I could push to force me to stop talking.