“If we had fooled her last night, I would have considered my life at a satisfactory end, with all debts paid. I would have wound up on skid row, or maybe I would have been a suicide." He shrugged and smiled sadly. "Now," he said, "if I'm ever going to square things with her, I've got to believe in a Heaven, I've got to believe she can look down and see me, and I've got to be a big success for her to see”

“Midland City had a goddess of discord all its own. This was a goddess who could not dance, would not dance, and hated everybody at the high school. She would like to claw away her face, she told us, so that people would stop seeing things in it that had nothing to do with what she was like inside. She was ready to die at any time, she said, because what men and boys thought about her and tried to do to her made her so ashamed. One of the first things she was going to do when she got to heaven, she said, was to ask somebody what was written on her face and why had it been put there.”

“God made mud.God got lonesome.So God said to some of the mud, "Sit up!""See all I've made," said God, "the hills, the sea, thesky, the stars."And I was some of the mud that got to sit up and lookaround.Lucky me, lucky mud.I, mud, sat up and saw what a nice job God had done.Nice going, God.Nobody but you could have done it, God! I certainlycouldn't have.I feel very unimportant compared to You.The only way I can feel the least bit important is tothink of all the mud that didn't even get to sit up andlook around.I got so much, and most mud got so little.Thank you for the honor!Now mud lies down again and goes to sleep.What memories for mud to have!What interesting other kinds of sitting-up mud I met!I loved everything I saw!Good night.I will go to heaven now.I can hardly wait...To find out for certain what my wampeter was...And who was in my karass...And all the good things our karass did for you.Amen.”

“...simply moderate giftedness has been made worthless by the printing press and radio and television and satellites and all that. A moderately gifted person who would have been a community treasure a thousand years ago has to give up, has to go into some other line of work, since modern communications put him or her into daily competition with nothing but world's champions.... A moderately gifted person has to keep his or her gifts all bottled up until, in a manner of speaking, he or she gets drunk at a wedding and tap-dances on the coffee table like Fred Astaire or Ginger Rogers. We have a name for him or her. We call him or her an "exhibitionist." How do we reward such an exhibitionist? We say to him or her the next morning, "Wow! Were you ever drunk last night!”

“He said he hoped a lot of us would have careers in science,' she said. She didn't see anything funny in that. She was remembering a lesson that had impressed her. She was repeating it, gropingly, dutifully. 'He said, the trouble with the world was...''The trouble with the world was,' she continued hesitatingly, 'that people were still superstitious instead of scientific. He said if everybody would study science more, there wouldn't be all the trouble there was.''He said science was going to discover the basic secret of life some day,' the bartender put in. He scratched his head and frowned. 'Didn't I read in the paper the other day where they'd finally found out what it was?''I missed that,' I murmured. ' I saw that, said Sandra. "About two days ago.''That's right,' said the bartender.'What is the secret of life?' I asked.'I forget,' said Sandra.'Protein,' the bartender declared. 'They found out something about protein.''Yeah,' said Sandra, 'that's it.”

“She died believing in the Trinity and Heaven and Hell and all the rest of it. I'm so glad. Why? Because I loved her.”

“I love you, because the love you gave me was the only love I've ever had, the only love I ever will have”