“He tried to scrub children's vomit from the webbing of the Tongue in a way that suggested deep reservoirs of genius.”

“All the June Saturday afternoon Sam Pollit's children were on the lookout for him as they skated round the dirt sidewalks and seamed old asphalt of R Street and Reservoir Road that bounded the deep-grassed acres of Tohoga House, their home.”

“Children are geniuses.”

“If, redesigning our education system from scratch, it was suggested that we should attempt to teach Swahili to children but carry out those lessons in another foreign tongue, such as Swedish, this would rightly be derided as lunacy. Yet this is not so very far from what we are attempting to do. Take Coyne, for example. He is 14 now. His grasp of English is, at best, tenuous. Despite this, we are trying to teach him to speak French. Equally, his mathematical ability is next to nil; we are trying, in economics lessons, to explain concepts like inflation and money supply to a boy who can’t add..”

“We simply have to learn how to skillfully get out of our own way. Getting out of our own way allows the deep reservoirs of peace and happiness within us to reveal themselves so we may gain more ready access to them.”

“From the pit of his stomach a violent spasm of nausea rose up and seized his throat. He ran to the bathroom, barely able to stand, knelt down in front of the toilet and started to vomit. He vomited the whiskey he'd just drunk, vomited what he'd eaten that day as well as what he'd eaten the day before, and the day before that, and he felt, with his sweaty head now entirely inside the toilet bowl and a sharp pain in his side, as if he were endlessly vomiting up the entire time of his life on earth, going all the way back to the pap he was given as a baby, and when, at last, he'd expelled his own mother's milk, he kept vomiting poison bitterness, bile, pure hatred.”