“You psychotic little Georgia Peach.”
“Lois looked edible, and you know it was tender all the way through, a kind of mystic combination of filet mignon and a Georgia peach aching for the tongue and ready to bleed gold.”
“Hell, your kid is fucking my wife, and your wife is fucking me. [...]Not that she's any good, Zane said, looking at Georgia, and when she made a little cry of protest, he added, Hell Georgia, even Jell-O moves when you eat it.”
“You can be the ripest, juciest peach, and there's still going to be somebody who hates peaches.”
“You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world, and there's still going to be somebody who hates peaches.”
“The day I understand what's going on in her psychotic little brain they'll have to lock me in a psych ward.”