Roan: Mom, you’re a love story. What I mean is, you are love. What I mean is, you are a loving person.

Roan: I don’t want to be a teenager. I just want to drive race cars, be a screenwriter, and wreck my house with my big muscles!

Roan (to Mom, during a bedtime chat): You’re a nice mother. You married the right man. You help Dad with his career. His career is making the money. I can’t help with that because I’m busy going to school and doing homework and stuff like that.