“To talk about God, except in the context of prayer, is to take His name in vain.One may, indeed, talk to a child about God, but this is on a par with telling him that he was brought to his mother by a stork.”

“While he was cautiously preambling, I tried to form a picture of all he did each day to earn his calories, all his grimaces and promises, pretty much like my own . . . And then to amuse myself, I imagined him all naked at his altar . . . It's a good habit to get into: when somebody comes to see you, quick reduce him to nakedness, and you'll see through him in a flash, regardless of who it is, you will instantly discern the underlying reality, namely an enormous, hungry maggot. It's good sleight-of-the-imagination. His lousy prestige vanishes, evaporates. Once you've got him naked you'll be dealing with nothing more than a bragging pretentious beggar, talking drivel of one kind or another. It's a test that nothing can withstand. In a moment you'll know where you are at. There wont be anything left but ideas, and there's nothing frightening about ideas. With ideas nothing is lost, everything can be straightened out. Whereas it's sometimes hard to stand up to the prestige of a man with his clothes on. Nasty smells and mysteries cling to his clothes.”

“Suicide by media can take a lifetime.”

“You know about innards? The trick they play on tramps in the country? They stuff an old wallet with putrid chicken innards. Well, take it from me, a man is just like that, except that he's fatter and hungrier and can move around, and inside there's a dream.”

“He made small talk on the way about how he was abandoned as a child and will only rest easy once he is avenged. His name was Tom.”

“Talk about getting off tangent. My mother's friend may have just killed his wife and my parents are sitting there talking about cows.”

“It hit me that the students were talking about me, not God. I was standing before a holy God and robbing Him of the glory that was rightfully His.”