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"His grin is alarming in that it is simultaneously violent and generous, antagonistic and admiring." p. 14
"Damn Belford and his meddling, damn proletarian immortality, damn the monkey, and damn the stars!" p. 38
"The trouble with Belford, in your opinion, is that he acheived financial success without ever dreaming of it, a situation contrary to the American way of life. The American dream is wasted upon those who never dreamed in the first place." p. 41
"'Love is like a snowmobile racing across the tundra / It flips over, pinning you underneath / At night the ice weasels come.' Bop-boppa-wop! You know. So drop in see you papa, Squeak baby. Tonight, tomorrow night, Woman Ray's, okay? Dey got 'nother robot workign da door. Dis one call Marcel Duchamp. He strict, but he let you in. Tell 'em Salvador Dali send you. Okay, Ciao." p. 86
"Were you supposed to just surrender to the zeitgeist? Be a pebble? Go where you were kicked?" p. 88
"The fool is potentially everybody, but not everybody has the wisdom or the guts to play the Fool." p. 91
""You aren't talking about dreams," she corrected you, "you're referring to your pathetic bourgeoisie ambitions." p. 113
"Four times you drive around the block, the Porsche weaving in and out of the rain-slowed traffic like the essence of a Henry James Sentence weaving in and out of prepositional phrases, dependent clauses, and parenthetical asides (periodically hitting the brakes to avoid misplacing a modifier)." p. 136
"Did you think theologians were referring to something other than bowling when they argued over how many angels could dance on the head of a pin?" p. 141
"A great unraveling (which means the same thing as "raveling," an etymological fact taht you find wholly irksome." p. 144
"Time doesn't exist in eternity." p. 148
"You are so intrigued you ignore the indelicacy of his analogy." ... "You've got the drive, all right, but you lack the talent. The truth is, you've chosen a profession in which you'll never be more than a marginal success." p. 157
"Mediocrity: now there is ugliness for you." p. 158
"But it got dreary. Because no matter how sweet the scores, they never added up to anything." p. 162
"Disaster's always best when it's on a grand scale." p. 179
"I'm smiling because I'm merry and bright. In the circles you travel in, you've probably never met a man who was merry and bright." p. 187
"He goes on at length, in his constricted nasal manner, about how, in our social history, jobs are an aberration, a flash in the pan. Human beings have been on earth for a million years, he claims (you think he's mistaken about that), but have only had jobs for the past five hundred years (that doesn't sound right, either) an inconsequential period, relatively speaking." p. 195
"The kitchen'll be closing soon, and we can't live on love alone." p. 198
"'I think,' she replied, ' that he means that you should never hesitate to trade your cow for a handful of magic beans.' On the way to school, you considered- and rejected- the fatherly advice. Why not milk the cow, you reasoned, and exchange a pail of milk for just one or two of the beans? That way you get to keep the cow, and how many magic beans does a person really need?" p. 202
"Look at frogs meditating on their pads and tell me they aren't monks." p. 209
"As a rule, we do not sing in our beds. We have no need. The mites sing for us. Sing for us. They are our Greek chorus, our geek chorus, choirs of microscopic angels ever ready to dance on the head of a pin. Their appetites are ghoulish, their hunger divine. They are what they eat." p. 215
"Timbuktu. The last pure place. Isolation being the mother of purity." p. 231
"Oh, it's a bit like camping on a blowtorch, but everybody's got a hard-luck story. They warn us when we're kids that we're going to have to suffer, but they neglect to mention the indignity. ... It only hurts when I don't laugh." p. 246
"Success in life and love depends always on timing." p. 249
"For decades, this expression of backpacker chic has been the unofficial uniform of Seattle's white middle class, and now you have to wonder if uniformity might not be partially at fault for the demise of the bourgeoisie? p. 267
"I hoped you might have a watt or two more light in your bulb than those poor toads who look on romance as an investment, like waterfront property or municipal bonds. Would you complain because a beautiful sunset doesn't have a future or a shooting star a payoff? And why should romance 'lead anywhere'? Passion isn't a path through the woods. Passion is the woods. It's the deepest, wildest part of the forest; the grove where the fairies still dance and obscene old vipers snooze in the boughs. Everybody but the most dried up and dysfunctional is drawn to the grove and enchanted by its mysteries, but then they just can't wait to call in the chain saws and bulldozers and replace it with a family-style restaurant or a new S and L. That's the payoff, I guess. Safety. Security. Certainty. yes, indeed. Well, remember this, pussy latte: we're not involved in a relationship, you and I, we're involved in a collision. Collisions don't much lend themselves to secure futures, but the act of colliding is hard to beat for interest. Correct me if I'm wrong." p. 276
"Everybody's performing. We only think it's real." p. 279
"...because a choice without consequences is no choice at all." p. 281
"You're a man who's turned against money." p. 283
"Surely, my dear, I'm not so obtuse that you've mistaken me for an ascetic. One of those self-destructive poverty snobs. Have you ever seen an ascetic who was merry and bright? Have you ever heard of a saint who was creative, brilliant, attractive, or anything besides a masochistic, sexually dysfunctional, unnatural egotists who think he or she's spiritually superior to you because he or she revels inn misery and you don't? People who've bought into poverty are just as shallow and exploitative as those who've bought into wealth. Both have been stultified by their lack of imagination." p. 284
"It isn't the pain that bothers me so much as it is the banality." p. 287
"Meanwhile, at our present level of development, largely oblivious to our origins and our destination, we are half-asleep in frog pajamas." p. 316
"okay, but you remember dis, baby: da flute invested before da wheel." p. 362
"... the picture doesn't know who painted it, the story doesn't know who's telling it, and the economy has no idea who or what economists are, let alone bookies and bean-counters." p. 374
"A gentleman named Horace Walpole once wrote that "The world is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who feel." p. 376
"Damn Belford and his meddling, damn proletarian immortality, damn the monkey, and damn the stars!" p. 38
"The trouble with Belford, in your opinion, is that he acheived financial success without ever dreaming of it, a situation contrary to the American way of life. The American dream is wasted upon those who never dreamed in the first place." p. 41
"'Love is like a snowmobile racing across the tundra / It flips over, pinning you underneath / At night the ice weasels come.' Bop-boppa-wop! You know. So drop in see you papa, Squeak baby. Tonight, tomorrow night, Woman Ray's, okay? Dey got 'nother robot workign da door. Dis one call Marcel Duchamp. He strict, but he let you in. Tell 'em Salvador Dali send you. Okay, Ciao." p. 86
"Were you supposed to just surrender to the zeitgeist? Be a pebble? Go where you were kicked?" p. 88
"The fool is potentially everybody, but not everybody has the wisdom or the guts to play the Fool." p. 91
""You aren't talking about dreams," she corrected you, "you're referring to your pathetic bourgeoisie ambitions." p. 113
"Four times you drive around the block, the Porsche weaving in and out of the rain-slowed traffic like the essence of a Henry James Sentence weaving in and out of prepositional phrases, dependent clauses, and parenthetical asides (periodically hitting the brakes to avoid misplacing a modifier)." p. 136
"Did you think theologians were referring to something other than bowling when they argued over how many angels could dance on the head of a pin?" p. 141
"A great unraveling (which means the same thing as "raveling," an etymological fact taht you find wholly irksome." p. 144
"Time doesn't exist in eternity." p. 148
"You are so intrigued you ignore the indelicacy of his analogy." ... "You've got the drive, all right, but you lack the talent. The truth is, you've chosen a profession in which you'll never be more than a marginal success." p. 157
"Mediocrity: now there is ugliness for you." p. 158
"But it got dreary. Because no matter how sweet the scores, they never added up to anything." p. 162
"Disaster's always best when it's on a grand scale." p. 179
"I'm smiling because I'm merry and bright. In the circles you travel in, you've probably never met a man who was merry and bright." p. 187
"He goes on at length, in his constricted nasal manner, about how, in our social history, jobs are an aberration, a flash in the pan. Human beings have been on earth for a million years, he claims (you think he's mistaken about that), but have only had jobs for the past five hundred years (that doesn't sound right, either) an inconsequential period, relatively speaking." p. 195
"The kitchen'll be closing soon, and we can't live on love alone." p. 198
"'I think,' she replied, ' that he means that you should never hesitate to trade your cow for a handful of magic beans.' On the way to school, you considered- and rejected- the fatherly advice. Why not milk the cow, you reasoned, and exchange a pail of milk for just one or two of the beans? That way you get to keep the cow, and how many magic beans does a person really need?" p. 202
"Look at frogs meditating on their pads and tell me they aren't monks." p. 209
"As a rule, we do not sing in our beds. We have no need. The mites sing for us. Sing for us. They are our Greek chorus, our geek chorus, choirs of microscopic angels ever ready to dance on the head of a pin. Their appetites are ghoulish, their hunger divine. They are what they eat." p. 215
"Timbuktu. The last pure place. Isolation being the mother of purity." p. 231
"Oh, it's a bit like camping on a blowtorch, but everybody's got a hard-luck story. They warn us when we're kids that we're going to have to suffer, but they neglect to mention the indignity. ... It only hurts when I don't laugh." p. 246
"Success in life and love depends always on timing." p. 249
"For decades, this expression of backpacker chic has been the unofficial uniform of Seattle's white middle class, and now you have to wonder if uniformity might not be partially at fault for the demise of the bourgeoisie? p. 267
"I hoped you might have a watt or two more light in your bulb than those poor toads who look on romance as an investment, like waterfront property or municipal bonds. Would you complain because a beautiful sunset doesn't have a future or a shooting star a payoff? And why should romance 'lead anywhere'? Passion isn't a path through the woods. Passion is the woods. It's the deepest, wildest part of the forest; the grove where the fairies still dance and obscene old vipers snooze in the boughs. Everybody but the most dried up and dysfunctional is drawn to the grove and enchanted by its mysteries, but then they just can't wait to call in the chain saws and bulldozers and replace it with a family-style restaurant or a new S and L. That's the payoff, I guess. Safety. Security. Certainty. yes, indeed. Well, remember this, pussy latte: we're not involved in a relationship, you and I, we're involved in a collision. Collisions don't much lend themselves to secure futures, but the act of colliding is hard to beat for interest. Correct me if I'm wrong." p. 276
"Everybody's performing. We only think it's real." p. 279
"...because a choice without consequences is no choice at all." p. 281
"You're a man who's turned against money." p. 283
"Surely, my dear, I'm not so obtuse that you've mistaken me for an ascetic. One of those self-destructive poverty snobs. Have you ever seen an ascetic who was merry and bright? Have you ever heard of a saint who was creative, brilliant, attractive, or anything besides a masochistic, sexually dysfunctional, unnatural egotists who think he or she's spiritually superior to you because he or she revels inn misery and you don't? People who've bought into poverty are just as shallow and exploitative as those who've bought into wealth. Both have been stultified by their lack of imagination." p. 284
"It isn't the pain that bothers me so much as it is the banality." p. 287
"Meanwhile, at our present level of development, largely oblivious to our origins and our destination, we are half-asleep in frog pajamas." p. 316
"okay, but you remember dis, baby: da flute invested before da wheel." p. 362
"... the picture doesn't know who painted it, the story doesn't know who's telling it, and the economy has no idea who or what economists are, let alone bookies and bean-counters." p. 374
"A gentleman named Horace Walpole once wrote that "The world is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who feel." p. 376
