“This judge has a chip on her shoulder the size of the whole goddamned courthouse.”

“You’ve got a goddamn bug today—you know that? What the hell’s the matter with you anyway?" Franny quickly tipped her cigarette ash, then brought the ashtray an inch closer to her side of the table. "I’m sorry. I’m awful," she said. "I’ve just felt so destructive all week. It’s awful. I’m horrible." "Your letter didn’t sound so goddamn destructive." Franny nodded solemnly. She was looking at a little warm blotch of sunshine, about the size of a poker chip, on the tablecloth. "I had to strain to write it," she said.”

“One who is a head should not have a chip on another person's shoulder.”

“Eliza has the sky in her eyes and I’ve always wanted to touch the goddamn sky.”

“This whole goddamn house stinks of ghosts.”

“You can't judge an internal injury by the size of the hole.”