“Daddy,' my mother asked, 'aren’t we going to run out of gas?'No there’s plenty of god-damned gas.'Where are we going?'I’m going to get some god-damed oranges!”
“My mother began to go crazy. Not in a 'Let's paint the kitchen red!' sort of way. But crazy in a 'gas oven, toothpaste sandwhich, I am God' sort of way.”
“If you fuel your journey on the opinions of others, you are going to run out of gas.”
“Now let's go into this pharmacy and get you some god-damn tampons. My treat!”
“These are the times when we aficionados of the gas stove know we are on the side of God.”
“Satan is not going to leave. The only way to get him out is to invite God in, and God is not welcome in my mother's house.”