“The point is I don't love your wife. I love your daughter, sir.”

“I am not trying to seduce you."I know that. But please, Mrs. Robinson. This is difficult for me.""Why is it," she said"Because I am confused about things. I can't tell what I'm imagining. I can't tell what's real. I can't --""Would you like me to seduce you?""What?""Is that what you're trying to tell me?”

“I love your daughter fondly, dearly, disninterestedly, devotedly. If ever there were love in the world, I love her.”

“Emma smacks the back of my head. “It’s just boobs. Even I have a pair. No reason to stare so hard. Put your eyes back in your head.” She grabs my hand, leading me toward the bar . . . and positions me with my back to the stage.“But you’ve never shown me yours. Take your shirt off, and I’ll stare at yours instead.” “You did not just say that.”“Yeah, I think I did.”“Men.” She rolls her eyes.”

“Your parents don't give you much love, do they?''I don't need that stuff,' I told her.'Henry, everybody needs love.''I don't need anything.''You poor boy.”

“An individualist town councillor will walk along the municipal pavement, lit by municipal gas and cleansed by municipal brooms with municipal water and - seeing by the municipal clock in the municipal market, that he is too early to meet his children coming from the municipal school, hard by the country lunatic asylum and the municipal hospital, will use the national telegraph system to tell them not to walk through the municipal park, but to come by the municipal tramway to meet him in the municipal reading-room, by the municipal museum, art-gallery, and library, where he intends ... to prepare his next speech in the municipal town hall in favor of the nationalization of canals and in increase of Government control of the railway system. "Socialism, Sir," he will say, "don't waste the time of a practical man by your fantastic absurdities. Self-help, Sir, individual self-help, that's what has made our city what it is.”

“I don't want to have it all, I only want to have enough.”