“I suppose I am a snob. I loathe towns. I loathe townspeople. They have small minds and giant backsides. Which is to say, what they lack in interiors they make up in posteriors.”

“Why do you seem so annoyed at what I'm saying?""Because we're too much like each other. I loathe your face, which is a caricature of mine, I loathe your voice, which is a mockery of mine, I loathe your pathetic syntax, which is my own.”

“I am loath to call clemency what was, rather, the exhaustion of cruelty.”

“employers sense in me a denial of their values...they fear me. i suspect that they can see that i am forced to function in a century which i loathe.”

“I disagree.” She squeezed lovingly. “Your dad has always supported you. All of this negativity, this pent-up aggression and self-loathing—”“I hardly loathe myself. Have you seen my ass?”

“I am not a snob; it is simply that I am not interested with what most people have to say, or what they want to do — mostly with my time.”