“He had then warned his daughter not to violate the Eleventh Commandment."Which one is that?" I asked her."Do not bullshit thy father," she said.”

“But what does he do to qualify as a sonovabitch?” Jenny asked.“Make me”, I replied.“Beg pardon?”“Make me”, I repeated.Her eyes widened like saucers. “You mean like incest?” she asked.“Don’t give me your family problems, Jen. I have enough of my own.”“Like what, Oliver?” she asked, “like just what is it he makes you do?”“The ‘right things’”, I said. “What’s wrong with the ‘right things’?” she asked, delighting in the apparent paradox.”

“What term do you employ when you speak of your progenitor?"I answered with the term I'd always wanted to employ."Sonovabitch.""To his face?" she asked."I never see his face.""He wears a mask?""In a way, yes. Of stone. Of absolute stone.”

“Now would you do me a favor?' From somewhere inside me came this devastating assault to make me cry. But I withstood. I would not cry. I would merely indicate to Jennifer - by the affirmative nodding of my head - that I would be happy to do her any favor whatsoever.'Would you please hold me very tight?' she asked.I put my hand on her forearm - Christ, so thin - and gave it a little squeeze.'No, Oliver,' she said, 'really hold me. Next to me.'I was very, very careful - of the tubes and things - as I got onto the bed with her and put my arms around her.'Thanks, Ollie.'Those were her last words.”

“What the hell makes you so smart?" I asked. "I wouldn't go for coffee with you, " she answered. "Listen -- I wouldn't ask you." "That, "she replied "is what makes you stupid.”

“You don't know about falling off cliffs, Prep­pie,' she said. 'You never fell off one in your god­damn life.''Yeah,' I said, re­cov­er­ing the power of speech. 'When I met you.”

“What the hell makes you smart?" I asked."I wouldn't go for coffee with you.""Listen - I wouldn't ask you.""That," she replied, "is what makes you stupid.”