“But don't blame me for the food. My wife knows a hundred and one ways to incinerate a cow, and as far as I can tell she's still experimenting.”

“You know," she says. "You're still alive. I don't know how many different ways I can try to tell you before it finally sinks in.”

“I don't feel frightened by not knowing things, by being lost in a mysterious universe without any purpose, which is the way it really is, as far as I can tell. Possibly. It doesn't frighten me.”

“It was one-way glass, and I was on the inside and she was on the outside. She was looking at me with the confidence of a woman who knows she won’t be scrutinized for scrutinizing me, and I was looking at her like I normally look at myself—though she probably thought I was staring at her breasts. Well, can you blame me? I had a stain on my shirt—and she had great tits.”

“I would like to be able to say that she broke my heart but I know better. I broke my own heart. I can't say that she did it and get behind that statement in any real way. I know too much. The only one I can blame for my loneliness is myself. Even if I did think that she did it to me I wouldn't feel any better. Tonight I was watching a movie and this actor in the film looked like her when she had a profile shot. She did not break my heart I did. I don't know why I would do something this painful to myself. I wish I would stop it's been months now and I'm still hurting myself nightly. I can avoid it for awhile and then it comes back.”

“There are three ways you can get along with a girl: one, shut up and listen to what she has to say; two, tell her you like what she's wearing; and three, treat her to really good food...If you do all that and still don't get the results you want, better give up.”