Neil Bookman: You OK with what happened?
Augusten Burroughs: Yeah. Sure. Well, thanks for everything.
Neil Bookman: Thank you. Thank YOU for everything.

Augusten Burroughs: I'm gay, too.
Neil Bookman: Holy Mary, Mother Of God. So that's what this is about. You're gay?
Augusten Burroughs: Yeah. I thought Natalie had told you.
Neil Bookman: Small world, right? You and me. Crazy. Smoke? Here, let me light you. Want a ride home?
Augusten Burroughs: Please.
Neil Bookman: I won't go fast. Maybe.
[Cut to Augusten and Neil in bed.]
Augusten Burroughs: What just happened?
Neil Bookman: You think you're gay, right? That's what gay men do. Just wanted you to know what you're in for. Want a beer? Smoke?
Augusten Burroughs: No.

Norman Burroughs: So... you're saying we should split up?
Dr. Finch: In order to reach that conclusion, Norman, I would need to see both you and Deirdre on a regular and disciplined basis, for five hours a day.
Deirdre Burroughs: I'm available, Doctor Finch.
Norman Burroughs: Five hoursa day?! I can't do that! I have to work!
Deirdre Burroughs: See, Doctor Finch, I told you. I'm married to a narcissist.
Dr. Finch: Norman, if I'm willing to clear my schedule to save your marriage, but you're not... then get out! Leave this office, go home, and start dividing your books and your record albums.
Norman Burroughs: This is bullshit. This is really fucking bullshit.
[Doctor Finch begins writing in his notebook.]
Norman Burroughs: What're you writing?
Dr. Finch: "Norman Burroughs is homicidal. He is an unapologetic alcoholic. He is dangerous and a threat to himself, his wife, and his child."

Norman Burroughs: Is he an MD doctor?
Deirdre Burroughs: Yes. And as I've told you a hundred times, he got his MD at Yale.
Norman Burroughs: You heard about this guy from where?
Deirdre Burroughs: Doctor Newpall. Augusten's allergist. If you were more of a man and involved in your son's life, you'd know who that was. I smell manure.
Norman Burroughs: I don't smell anything.
Deirdre Burroughs: I do, I smell manure. It's coming out of your ears.
Norman Burroughs: Fucking bitch.

I think he's a genius. Like when I was your age, and I'd have a rage seizure, he'd put on music to lower my blood pressure. Nat King Cole. "Stardust." Revolutionary sort of stuff, you know? Worked everytime. If he hadn't adopted me... shit, I don't know what I would've done.

Neil Bookman

Norman Burroughs: I don't understand.
Six-Year-Old Augusten Burroughs: I polish my allowance. I boil it clean, then polish it with silver polish.
Norman Burroughs: But why, Augusten? Why?
Six-Year-Old Augusten Burroughs: Because I like shiny things.
Norman Burroughs: I really don't see myself in you at all.
Six-Year-Old Augusten Burroughs: I'm more like my mom. I want to be special and I want to be famous.

Augusten. Don't smoke my cigarettes. You have a pack of your own.

Deirdre Burroughs

According to Hope, Froyd died of kitty Lukemia. According to me Froyd died of being trapped in a laundry basket for four days without food or water

Augusten Burroughs

Hope: You know Natalie, youre so oral, you'll never get to anal
Natalie: And youll never get a dick in your dried up cunt, you old maid!

I need high cellings

Deirdre Burroughs

Neil Bookman: I'm a fuck-up and it's your fault!
Dr. Finch: That's right, Neil. Blame your father for your inability to focus. Direct all of that rage at me if it makes you feel better.
Neil Bookman: I can't focus because of the voices! I see you for what you are. Yeah. The camera never lies. No! My parents have given you thousands of dollars and I'm still sick! You have to help me get better! You know what I do! You have to help me get better!
Dr. Finch: You're right, Neil. You're right. I've done nothing, apparently. I've never pulled any strings, gotten you a scholarship to the University of Rochester to pursue your photographic interests. Absolutely nothing.
Neil Bookman: You just wanted to get rid of me. Why won't you let me live in this house and be a part of this family?
Dr. Finch: Because I am the patriarch! And when the patriarch says jump, you jump, goddamnit! You don't co-operate, Neil, and for that, you're punished!
Neil Bookman: That's not why you won't let me live in this house. You won't let me because you're afraid of me, aren't you? Of what I could do to you in the middle of the night while you're sleeping. Huh? You're afraid of me. Aren't you, Doctor?
Dr. Finch: Our time is up, Neil. I believe we've made a breakthrough today.

Well, the abs are fab and it's gluteus to the maximus here at the Far Far Away royal ball. The carriages are all lined up as the cream of the crop pours out of them like Miss Muffet's curds and whey.

Mirror

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