“You people voted for Hubert Humphrey and killed Jesus!”

“It was the kind of town that made you feel like Humphrey Bogart: you came in on a bumpy little plane, and, for some mysterious reason, got a private room with balcony overlooking the town and the harbor; then you sat there and drank until something happened.”

“What do you want? Where's the goddamn ice I ordered? Where's the booze? There's a war on, man! People are being killed!”

“There may be flies on you and me, but there are no flies on Jesus.”

“Jesus man! You don't look for acid! Acid finds you when *it* thinks you're ready.”

“All we have to do is get out and vote, while it's still legal, and we will wash those crooked warmongers out of the White House.”

“Jesus Creeping God! Is there a priest in this tavern? I want to confess! I'm a fucking sinner! Venal, mortal, carnal, major, minor - however you want to call it, Lord... I'm guilty.”