“She glanced over her shoulder to look at the forty-foot cabin cruiser where Captain Tarwater posed on the bow looking like an advertisement for a particularly rigid laundry detergent - Bumstick Go-Be-Bright, perhaps”

“There isn't a button," she said. "You choose your setting and then you pull the dial." He glanced at her as she folded a shirt, annoyed by her nonchalance at doing laundry. "What exactly is my setting? It looks to me like the setting is the goddamn laundry room and the plot is I don't know how to fucking turn this thing on.”

“With her foot on the threshold she waited a moment longer in a scene which was vanishing even as she looked, and then, as she moved and took Minta's arm and left the room, it changed, it shaped itself differently; it had become, she knew, giving one last look at it over her shoulder, already the past.”

“He pointed a shaking finger at her. 'You,' he growled. She jerked glances over both of her shoulders looking for the unfortunate You he was addressing. Her. Holy shite, this madman had settled on her.”

“Tool glanced over his shoulder, looking to see if the girl might have changed her mind, but she was gone. Swallowed up by the land. The Drowned Cities ate its children.”

“It's as though she holds to the walls of a canyon. If I move wrong she will look over her shoulder, let go, and take her chances with the fall.”