“Huey was something else. Huey was out of sight. He knew how to do it. Huey was ten motherfuckers.”

“I love Huey Lewis, but not the News, because the News is too depressing.”

“So she becomes, like all females deprived of a mate, predatory and exacting.”

“It is our lot to take what we have, make of it what we will. We are meant to finger the leftovers, rock our old dolls, clutch wooden angels to our breasts.”

“I was working in the lab late one nightWhen my eyes beheld an eerie sight. For my monster from his slab began to riseAnd suddenly to my surprise.He did the mash.He did the monster mash.”

“I already have Tangled Webs and Blood throughout the night out. look out for Night of the Beast all great reads.”

“Josephy visited several leading Manhattan bookstores and sadly discovered the explanation [from his agent] to be generally correct; books about Indians were shelved in the back of the stores alongside books about natural history, dinosaurs, plants, birds, and animals rather than being placed alongside biographies and histories of Americans, Europeans, Asians, Africans, and other great world cultures. Puzzled, Josephy began asking bookstore managers for a justification of this marketing tactic and was informed that Indian books had “just always been placed there.” The longer he pondered booksellers’ indifference toward Indians, the more annoyed Josephy became with the realization that bookstore marketing tactics were simply a reflection of the pervasive thinking throughout the United States in 1961: Americans believed Indians to be a vanished people. “Thinking about it made me angry,” Josephy wrote in his autobiography, “and I vowed that someday, some way, I would do something about this ignorant insult.”