“Son," he said, "you monkeyed up.”

“That craptastical, gutless, son-of-a-cactus-humping butt monkey!!”

“Mr. Charles Darwin, who looked a bit like God which is interesting, wrote a book called You're a Fucking Monkey, Mate. He played around with the title for a while: We're All Fucking Monkeys; You're a Fucking Monkey, Mate; Get Out of My Face, You Fucking Monkey. And he ended up with On The Origin of Species.”

“Diesel rocked back on his heels and grinned at the monkey. “Carl?” “Eep!” The monkey stood, squinted at Diesel, and gave him the finger. “Looks like you know each other,” I said. “Our paths crossed in Trenton,” Diesel said. “How did he get here?” “Monkey Rescue,” Glo told him. “He was abandoned.” “Figures,” Diesel said. The monkey gave him the finger again. “Does he do that all the time?” I asked Diesel. “Not all the time.” “I got him by mistake,” Glo said. “And now we don’t know what to do with him.” “You could turn him loose and let him go play in traffic.” Diesel said. - Lizzy, Shirley, Diesel, and Carl, pages 132-134.”

“So." Noah said carefully. I was sitting up cross-legged and tangled in my sheets."So." I said back"Would you like to hear about Curious George's new adventures?"I shook my head."Are you sure?" Noah asked. "He's been such a naughty monkey.""Pass.”

“A monkey glances up and sees a banana, and that's as far as he looks. A visionary looks up and sees the moon.”