Sam

What does she believe? It changes. She believes her dad is selfish. She believes he's crazy. She believes he's full of shit. She believes he's magic.

It’s more like it’s okay, you didn’t break my heart. Try knives. Try torches. My dad is a professional.

You did that. Nobody else.

Halle thinks your imagination is something you can put on like a jacket or pick up like a spoon—but Sam’s imagination is private! You don’t use your actual imagination for homework. It’s like telling wishes.

the morning, Sam is still sick, and Courtney has a headache

She has to keep moving or she will fall asleep.

It's more like, "It's okay, you didn't break my heart. Try knives, try torches. My dad is a professional.

With your dad, boring is exactly where you want to be.

That’s just the way it is. You pay your bills. You lock your door. You do your homework. Everybody’s got a job. You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it. And write neatly. And lose the attitude.

Consistency is like a muscle. “Are you willing to practice? Are you going to work? Because if you’re not, you shouldn’t be here.

Frank Sinatra on the sound system. “Fly Me to the Moon.

As soon as Sam pops the trunk, more balloons fly up into the air.

know winning isn’t everything and if all you care about is winning, you’ll feel empty—but I haven’t won enough to feel empty yet.

Ann says there used to be a lot of utopias around New England. There was Fruitlands, where the people nearly starved, not to mention, they tried to wear linen all winter. Then there were the Shakers, but they died out, because they believed inc elibacy. “I think they were pretty frustrated,” Ann says. “Look at their baskets.

Some people tell lies about the past. Her dad tells lies about the future. He is always telling a new story.