“I think that you are an uptight, pony-owning, trickle-down-economics-loving, Scotch-on-the-rocks-drinking, my-wife-better-take-my-last-name sexist jerk!”

“I hid Mrs. Frozenwater’s body in the ice cube trays in my freezer. Better to keep her there than let her memory thaw out and evaporate. Scotch on the rocks, anyone?
”

“If you feed enough oats to the horse, some will pass through to feed the sparrows (referring to "trickle down" economics).”

“I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight down into my stomach like a sword swallowers’ sword and made me feel powerful and godlike.”

“I know I can make my mark on this world, and not because of my last name - but because of my own talent.”

“If I was drunk, I wouldn’t be here at all. And really, this is pretty good for four White Russians.”“White what?” I almost sat down but was afraid the chair might dematerialize beneath me.“It’s a drink,” he said. “You’d think I wouldn’t be into something named that—you know, considering my own personal experience with Russians. But they’re surprisingly delicious. The drinks, not real Russians.”