“Canned food is a perversion,' Ignatius said. 'I suspect that it is ultimately very damaging to the soul.”

“Ignatius, all at once you're your horrible old self. All at once I think I'm making a very big mistake.”

“I bet you cook good, huh?" Darlene asked."Mother doesn't cook," Ignatius said dogmatically."She burns.”

“...    'How old is he?' the policeman asked Mrs. Reilly.    'I am thirty,' Ignatius said condescendingly.    'You got a job?'    'Ignatius hasta help me at home,' Mrs. Reilly said. Her initial courage was failing a little, and she began to twist the lute string with the cord on the cake boxes. 'I got terrible arthuritis.'    'I dust a bit,' Ignatius told the policeman. 'In addition, I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.'...”

“Illusions can be very convincing. No one has any reason to suspect that I am anything less than what I appear.”

“Johnny sighed in the darkness. “I don’t understand the exact purpose of the Keats Project or the other Old Earth analogs, but I suspect that it is part of a TechnoCore project going back at least seven standard centuries to realize the Ultimate Intelligence.”“The Ultimate Intelligence,” I said, exhaling smoke. “Uh-huh. So the TechnoCore is trying to… what?… to build God.”“Yes.”