“Ambien might have mentally just tossed my salad. WITH CROUTONS.”

“This was bad. This was toss-Emma-back-into-the-mental-hospital-bad.”

“Well, somehow I felt if I sent Sally a donation, she would open the envelope herself and squeeze the cash into the hip pocket of her elastic- waist jeans. She would treat herself at Pizza Hut, using my envelope to dab pepperoni grease from her chin. I imagined her maybe having garlic cheese bread on the side and a salad of iceberg lettuce topped with blue- cheese dressing, Bacos and croutons.”

“Daisy looked up at him with the kind of expression that Jesus might have given someone who had just explained that he was probably allergic to bread and fishes, so could He possibly do him a quick chicken salad...”

“Where it all ends I can't fathom, my friends.If I knew, I might toss out my anchor.”

“What I thought we might have a conversation about, is basically I do math, sir, not clandestine operations that severely deplete my mental resources.”