About a Boy

Will:
The thing is, a person's life is like a TV show. I was the star of The Will Show. And The Will Show wasn't an ensemble drama. Guests came and went, but I was the regular. It came down to me and me alone. If Marcus' mum couldn't manage her own show, if her ratings were falling, it was sad, but that was her problem. Ultimately, the whole single mum plotline was a bit complicated for me.

Marcus:
He fancies you. he told me.

Christine:
You will end up childless and alone.

Will:
Well, fingers crossed, yeah.

Will:
This crying in the morning thing, this depression, let's get that fixed.

Will:
I want to go out with her, OK. I'd like her to be my girlfriend, here I said it.

Marcus:
How brilliant!

Will:
I was in some strange territory. Was I frightened? I was petrified.

Marcus:
You don't give a sh*t about anyone and no one gives a sh*t about you!

Will:
I am an island. I am bloody Ibiza!

Lindsey's Mum:
'Shake your Ass'... is he Moroccan?

Will:
I'd be the worst possible Godfather. I'd probably drop her on her head at her christening. I'd forget all her birthdays until she was 18. Then I'd take her out and get her drunk. And, let's face it, quite possibly try and shag her.

Will:
Once you open your door to one person anyone can come in.

Marcus:
I think I killed a duck!

Fiona:
You selfish bastard!

Will:
I'll tell you one thing. Men are bastards. After about ten minutes I wanted to cut my *own* penis off with a kitchen knife.

Fiona:
Will, am I a bad mother?

Will:
No. No, you're not a bad mother. You're just a barking lunatic.

Fiona:
I mean, he's a special - very, very special boy and he's got a special soul, and I've wounded it.

Will:
Oh, please, just shut up. You're wounding my soul.

Christine:
Oh, no... it's just I thought you had hidden depths.

Will:
No, no, you've always had that wrong about me. I really am this shallow.

Will:
In my opinion, all men are islands. And what's more, now's the time to be one. This is an island age.

Fiona:
He's expressing himself!

Will:
No, he's not! He's expressing YOU!

Marcus:
Suddenly I realized - two people isn't enough. You need backup. If you're only two people, and someone drops off the edge, then you're on your own. Two isn't a large enough number. You need three at least.

Will:
I find the key is to think of a day as units of time, each unit consisting of no more than thirty minutes. Full hours can be a little bit intimidating and most activities take about half an hour. Taking a bath: one unit, watching countdown: one unit, web-based research: two units, exercising: three units, having my hair carefully disheveled: four units. It's amazing how the day fills up, and I often wonder, to be absolutely honest, if I'd ever have time for a job; how do people cram them in?

Will:
It was terrible! Terrible! But driving really fast behind the ambulance was fantastic!

Will:
Me, I didn't mean anything. About anything, to anyone. And I knew that guaranteed me a long, depression-free life.

Will:
Oh no! November the sodding 19th... Six weeks before bloody Christmas and they were already playing that song.

Will:
And there I was killing them softly with my song. Or rather being killed. And not so softly either.

Will:
My life is made up of units of time. Buying CDs - two units. Eating lunch - three units. Exercising - two units. All in all, I had a very full life. It's just that it didn't mean anything.

Marcus:
A little. It's by black people mostly. And they're pretty angry most of the time. But sometimes they just want to have sex.

Marcus:
I wanna be with her more, I wanna be with her all the time, and I wanna tell her things I don't even tell you or mum. And I don't want her to have another boyfriend. I suppose if I could have all those things, I wouldn't really mind if I touched her or not.

Marcus:
I got the letter. Thanks.

Fiona:
Oh my God. I'd forgotten.

Marcus:
You forgot? You forgot a suicide letter?

Fiona:
Well I didn't think I'd have to remember it, did I? Did you read the part where I said I'd always love you?

Marcus:
It's a bit hard for you to love me when you're dead, isn't it?

Fiona:
I can understand why you're angry, Marcus. But I don't feel the same as I did yesterday, if it's any help.

Marcus:
What? It's all gone away? All that?

Fiona:
No, but, for the moment, I feel better.

Marcus:
The moment's no good for me. I can see you feel better at the moment. You just put the kettle on. What happens when you finish your tea? What happens when I go back to school? I can't be here to watch you all the time!

Marcus:
I'll come if you take my mom, too. She hasn't got any money, so either we'll have to go somewhere cheap, or you'll have to treat us.

Will:
Well, listen, don't beat about the bush, Marcus.

Marcus:
Why should I? We're poor, you're rich, you pay. You can bring your little boy if you like. I don't mind.

Will:
That's really big of you.

Marcus:
I used to want Will to marry my mom.

Ali:
You serious?

Marcus:
Yeah, but that was when she was depressed and I was desperate.

Will:
Thanks, mate.

Lindsey's Mum:
Are we having duck? Delicious!

Ali:
If your dad goes out with my mum, you're gonna be dead, really dead.

Marcus:
I don't think it's really up to me, now is it?

Ali:
Well it better be... or you're gonna die.

Fiona:
When you sing it brings sunshine and happiness into my heart