John Kennedy Toole was an American novelist from New Orleans, Louisiana, best known for his novel A Confederacy of Dunces.
Toole's novels remained unpublished during his lifetime. Some years after his death by suicide, Toole's mother brought the manuscript of A Confederacy of Dunces to the attention of the novelist Walker Percy, who ushered the book into print. In 1981 Toole was posthumously awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.
“Is it the part of the police department to harass me when this city is a flagrant vice capital of the civilized world?" Ignatius bellowed over the crowd in front of the store. "This city is famous for its gamblers, prostitutes, exhibitionists, anti-Christs, alcoholics, sodomites, drug addicts, fetishists, onanists, pornographers, frauds, jades, litterbugs, and lesbians, all of whom are only too well protected by graft. If you have a moment, I shall endeavor to discuss the crime problems with you, but don't make the mistake of bothering me.”
“Having once been so high, humanity fell so low. What had once been dedicated to the soul was now dedicated to the sale.”
“- Viens t’agenouiller avec moi près de la fenêtre, David, et prions pour que ta maman se sente bien demain, et que rien n’arrive à ton papa ce soir, et que toi et moi… que toi et moi ne souffrions pas trop, ni demain, ni jamais.Cela m’avait l’air d’une prière magnifique, alors j’ai regardé par la fenêtre et j’ai commencé, mais mes yeux sont tombés sur la Bible de néon, en dessous de nous, et je n’ai pas pu continuer. Et puis j’ai vu les étoiles du ciel qui brillaient autant que la belle prière et j’ai recommencé, et la prière est venue sans que j’aie à réfléchir, et je l’ai offerte aux étoiles et au ciel de la nuit.”
“But I knew the way the people in the town thought about things. They always had some time left over from their life to bother about other people and what they did. They thought they had to get together to help other people out, like the time they got together about the woman who let a colored man borrow her car and told her the best place for her was up north with all the other nigger lovers, and the time they got the veterans with overseas wives out. If you were different from anybody in town, you had to get out. That's why everybody was so much alike. The way they talked, what they did, what they liked, what they hated. If somebody got to hate something and he was the right person, everybody had to hate it too, or people began to hate the ones who didn't hate it. They used to tell us in school to think for yourself, but you couldn't do that in the town. You had to think what your father thought all his life, and that was what everybody thought.”
“I was getting tired about what the preacher called Christian. Anything he did was Christian, and the people in his church believed it, too. If he stole some book he didn't like from the library, or made the radio station play only part of the day on Sunday, or took somebody off to the state poor home, he called it Christian. I never had much religious training, and I never went to Sunday school because we didn't belong to the church when I was old enough to go, but I thought I knew what believing in Christ meant, and it wasn't half the things the preacher did.”
“I should perhaps warn you that I am about to faint from anxiety and general depression, though. The film I saw last night was especially grueling, a teen-age beach musical. I almost collapsed during the singing sequence on surfboard.”
“Filth!' Ignatious shouted, spewing wet popcorn over rows. 'How dare she pretend to be a virgin. Look at her degenerate face. Rape her!”
“Ignatius, all at once you're your horrible old self. All at once I think I'm making a very big mistake.”
“Mothers got a hard road to travel, believe me.”
“Will you please stop screeching like a fishmonger and run along? Don't you have a bottle of muscatel baking in the oven?”
“New Orleans is, on the other hand, a comfortable metropolis which has a certain apathy and stagnation which I find inoffensive.”
“Ignatius, what's all this trash on the floor?""That is my worldview that you see. It still must be incorporated into a whole, so be careful where you step.”
“Oh, Fortuna, you capricious sprite!”
“Possession of anything new or expensive only reflected a person's lack of theology and geometry; it could even cast doubts upon one's soul.”
“A green hunting cap squeezed the top of the fleshy balloon of a head. The green earflaps, full of large ears and uncut hair and the fine bristles that grew in the ears themselves, stuck out on either side like turn signals indicating two directions at once. Full, pursed lips protruded beneath the bushy black moustache and, at their corners, sank into little folds filled with disapproval and potato chip crumbs. In the shadow under the green visor of the cap Ignatius J. Reilly’s supercilious blue and yellow eyes looked down upon the other people waiting under the clock at the D.H. Holmes department store, studying the crowd of people for signs of bad taste in dress. Several of the outfits, Ignatius noticed, were new enough and expensive enough to be properly considered offenses against taste and decency. Possession of anything new or expensive only reflected a person’s lack of theology and geometry; it could even cast doubts upon one’s soul.”
“Is my paranoia getting completely out of hand, or are you mongoloids really talking about me?”
“Oh, Fortuna, blind, heedless goddess, I am strapped to your wheel,' Ignatius belched, 'Do not crush me beneath your spokes. Raise me on high, divinity.”
“I bet you cook good, huh?" Darlene asked."Mother doesn't cook," Ignatius said dogmatically."She burns.”
“The Dr. Nuts seemed only as an acid gurgling down into his intestine. He filled with gas, the sealed valve trapping it just as one pinches the mouth of a balloon. Great eructations rose from his throat and bounced upward toward the refuse-laden bowl of the milk glass chandelier. Once a person was asked to step into this brutal century, anything could happen. Everywhere there lurked pitfalls like Abelman, the insipid Crusaders for Moorish Dignity, the Mancuso cretin, Dorian Greene, newspaper reporters, stripteasers, birds, photography, juvenile delinquents, Nazi pornographers. And especially Myrna Minkoff. The musky minx must be dealt with. Somehow. Someday. She must pay. Whatever happened, he must attend to her even if the revenge took years and he had to stalk her through decades from one coffee shop to another, from one folksinging orgy to another, from subway train to pad to cotton field to demonstration. Ignatius invoked an elaborate Elizabethan curse upon Myrna and, rolling over, frantically abused the glove once more.”
“It's not your fate to be well treated," Ignatius cried. "You're an overt masochist. Nice treatment will confuse and destroy you.”
“I suspect that beneath your offensively and vulgarly effeminate façade there may be a soul of sorts. Have you read widely in Boethius?""Who? Oh, heavens no. I never even read newspapers.""Then you must begin a reading program immediately so that you may understand the crises of our age," Ignatius said solemnly. "Begin with the late Romans, including Boethius, of course. Then you should dip rather extensively into early Medieval. You may skip the Renaissance and the Enlightenment. That is mostly dangerous propaganda. Now that I think of it, you had better skip the Romantics and the Victorians, too. For the contemporary period, you should study some selected comic books.""You're fantastic.""I recommend Batman especially, for he tends to transcend the abysmal society in which he's found himself. His morality is rather rigid, also. I rather respect Batman.”
“Do you think that I want to live in a communal society with people like that Battaglia acquaintance of yours, sweeping streets and breaking up rocks or whatever it is people are always doing in those blighted countries? What I want is a good, strong monarchy with a tasteful and decent king who has some knowledge of theology and geometry and to cultivate a Rich Inner Life.”
“Too long have I confined myself in Miltonic isolation and meditation. It is clearly time for me to step boldly into our society, not in the boring, passive manner of the Myrna Minkoff school of social action, but with great style and zest.”
“Perhaps I should have been a Negro. I suspect I would have been a rather large and terrifying one, continually pressing my ample thigh against the withered thighs of old white ladies in public conveyances a great deal and eliciting more than one shriek of panic. Then, too, if I were a Negro, I would not be pressured by my mother to find a good job, for no good jobs would be available. My mother herself, a worn old Negress, would be too broken by years of underpaid labor as a domestic to go out bowling at night. She and I could live most pleasantly in some moldy shack in the slums in a state of ambitionless peace, realizing contentedly that we were unwanted, that striving was meaningless.”
“Go dangle your withered parts over the toilet!' Ignatius screamed savagely.”
“Mrs. Reilly called in that accent that occurs south of New Jersey only in New Orleans, that Hoboken near the Gulf of Mexico.”
“The only excursion of my life outside of New Orleans took me through the vortex to the whirlpool of despair: Baton Rouge. . . . New Orleans is, on the other hand, a comfortable metropolis which has a certain apathy and stagnation which I find inoffensive.”
“I mingle with my peers or no one, and since I have no peers, I mingle with no one.”
“you can always tell employees of the government by the total vacancy which occupies the space where most other people have faces.”
“Mother went out again tonight, looking like a courtesan.”
“I refuse to "look up." Optimism nauseates me. It is perverse. Since man's fall, his proper position in the universe has been one of misery.”
“Once a person was asked to step into this brutal century, anything could happen”
“...When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occassional cheese dip.”
“This liberal doxy must be impaled on the member of a particularly large stallion!”
“Stop!' I cried imploringly to my god-like mind.”
“Veneration of Mark Twain is one of the roots of our current intellectual stalemate.”
“employers sense in me a denial of their values...they fear me. i suspect that they can see that i am forced to function in a century which i loathe.”
“with the breakdown of the medieval system, the gods of chaos, lunacy, and bad taste gained ascendancy.”
“Mercaderes y charlatanes se hicieron con el control de Europa, llamando a su insidioso evangelio "La Ilustración". El día de la plaga estaba próximo; pero de las cenizas de la humanidad no surgió ningún fénix. El campesino humilde y piadoso, Pedro Labrador, se fue a la ciudad a vender a sus hijos a los señores del Nuevo Sistema para empresas que podemos calificar, en el mejor de los casos, de dudosas. (...) El giroscopio se había ampliado. La Gran Cadena del Sur se había roto como si fuera una serie de clips unidos por algún pobre imbécil; el nuevo destino de Pedro Labrador sería muerte, destrucción, anarquía, progreso, ambición y autosuperación. Iba a ser un destino malévolo: ahora se enfrentaba a la perversión de tener que IR A TRABAJAR.”
“... I tried to end our little duel. I called out pacifying words; I entreated; I finally surrendered. Still Clyde came, my pirate costume so great a success that it had apparently convinced him that we were back in the golden days of romantic old New Orleans when gentlemen decided matters of hot dog honor at twenty paces”
“I suspect that I am the result of particularly weak conception on the part of my father. His sperm was probably emitted in a rather offhand manner.”
“You could tell by the way he talked, though, that he had gone to school a long time. That was probably what was wrong with him.”
“Between notes, he had contemplated means of destroying Myrna Minkoff but had reached no satisfactory conclusion. His most promising scheme had involved getting a book on munitions from the library, constructing a bomb, and mailing it in plain paper to Myrna. Then he remembered that his library card had been revoked.”
“Psycho? The woman's senile. We had to stop at about thirty gas stations on the way over here. Finally I got tired of getting out of the car and showing her which was the Men's and which was the Women's, so I let her pick them herself. I worked out a system. The law of averages. I laid money on her and she came out about fifty-fifty.”
“So we see that even when Fortuna spins us downward, the wheel sometimes halts for a moment and we find ourselves in a good, small cycle within the larger bad cycle. The universe, of course, is based upon the principle of the circle within the circle. At the moment, I am in an inner circle. Of course, smaller circles within this circle are also possible.”
“Hey! All you peoples draggin along here. Stop and come stick your ass on a Night of Joy stool," he started again. "Night of Joy got genuine color peoples workin below the minimal wage. Whoa! Guarantee plantation atmosphere, got cotton growin right on the stage right in front your eyeball, got a civil right worker gettin his ass beat up between show. Hey!”
“I want that Easter Ham. Where's my Thanksgiving Turkey?" Miss Trixie snarled”
“My mother is currently associating with some undesirables who are attempting to transform her into an athlete of sorts, deprave specimens of mankind who regularly bowl their way to oblivion.”
“Like a bitch in heat, I seem to attract a coterie of policemen and sanitation officials. ”
“Apparently I lack some particular perversion which today's employer is seeking. ”