Quentin Jacobsen: What a treacherous thing it is to believe that a person is more than a person. Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventurer. She was not some fine, precious thing. She was a girl. It took me a long time to realise how wrong I was.
Quentin Jacobsen: She loved mysteries so much, that she became one.
Margo: All the paper kids drinking beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. I've lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters.
Quentin Jacobsen: Interesting capitalization.
Margo: Yeah. I'm a big believer in random capitalization. The rules of capitalization are so unfair to words in the middle.
Margo: Okay, you see this? This is your comfort zone. It's this big, Quentin. All the things that you want in the world are way out there.
Quentin Jacobsen: Margo always loved mysteries. And in everything that came afterward, I could never stop thinking that maybe she loved mysteries so much that she became one.
Margo: It's a shame, don't you think? All the strings inside him broke.
Quentin Jacobsen: And for Margo? I heard someone say she was in the resurrection of a play on Broadway. I heard another person say She was giving surfing lessons off the coast of the Bahamas. But I stopped listening to those stories. Because whatever Margo is doing, wherever she is now, I'm sure it's something special. But hey... That's her story to tell.
Quentin Jacobsen: Last time I was this scared, I had to sleep in my mom's bed.
Ben: If I were you, I'd get that scared every single night.