“You mind Ralph," she called back to Bubber. "Mind the gnats don't sit on his eyelids.”
“Purposely, perhaps, Mary did not agree with Ralph; she loved to feel her mind in conflict with his, and to be certain that he spared her female judgement no ounce of his male muscularity.”
“Beliefs are the eyelids of the mind.”
“The depth of your wardrobe dazzles the mind. Ralph Lauren weeps.”
“But thoughts don't care about truth and shit. They sit up in your mind and fuck with you whenever.”
“While she lay there with these old worn thoughts coming obediently into her mind, called there by habit and the familiar quiet of early morning, she was aware that at the back of her mind there was another thought that was not at all stale, but so fresh that it was nearly a feeling, with all a feeling's delicious power to kill thought.”