“By all accounts this evening promised to be yet another in the long progression of dog days that oozed like a piece of soft, runny brie with a hunk of moldy French bread and washed down with a mug of room-temperature Clamato.”

“Often subtle clues are not obvious enough for the stubborn or stupid. This is when God stops throwing crumbs and starts throwing the whole piece of bread. If you step on moldy bread then you know you have waited too long.”

“Dip a slice of bread in batter. That's September: yellow, gold, soft and sticky. Fry the bread. Now you have October: chewier, drier, streaked with browns. The day in question fell somewhere in the middle of the french toast process.”

“in the dark room she sits and in front of her is a plate and on the plate lies a black hunk of bread the size of a deck of cards. The bread has sawdust in it, and cardboard. She takes a knife and a fork, and cuts it slowly into four pieces. She eats one, chews it deliberately, pushes it with difficulty through her dry throat. eats another and another and finally the last one. She lingers especially on the last one. She knows after this piece is gone there will be no more food until tommorow morning. She wishes she could be strong enough to save half of the bread until dinner, but she isn't, she can't. When she looks up from her plate, her sister Dasha, is staring at her. Her plate is long empty. " I wish Alexander was coming back" says Dasha. " He might have food for us"I wish Alexander was coming back, thinks Tatiana.”

“If they can make penicillin out of moldy bread, then they can sure make something out of you.”

“Brains are like sponges...If allowed to become moist too long, they become moldy”