“How did people raise kids before plastic came along? "Everything for Baby", said the sign over the aisle we were in. It should have said, "Everything for Baby Is Made from Molded Plastic in Ugly Primary Colors.”

“Everything was fine, but Weetzie wanted a baby. “How could you want one?” My Secret Agent Lover Man said. “There are way too many babies. And diseases. And nuclear accidents. And crazy psychos. We cant have a baby,” he said.”

“I think your eyes might be the exact same color as mine," she said wonderingly."What fine gray-eyed babies we shall have," he said, before he thought the better of it.”

“Taking care a white babies, that’s what I do, along with all the cooking and the cleaning. I done raised seventeen kids in my lifetime. I know how to get them babies to sleep, stop crying, and go in the toilet bowl before they mamas even get out a bed in the morning.”

“Babies, babies, babies. Why did God make so many babies? But no, God didn't make them. Stupid people made them.”

“I said, "The children wanted to know what life was like."Junior said, “They [the children] don’t have any idea how rough it was.” (George responds)“Or how good it was either! People forget that a picture ain’t made from just one color. Life ain’t all good or all bad. It’s full of everything.”