“No wonder kids grow up crazy. A cat's cradle is nothing but a bunch of X's between somebody's hands, and little kids look and look and look at all those X's . . ." "And?" "No damn cat, and no damn cradle.”

“Newt remained curled in the chair. He held out his puny hands as though a cat's cradle were strung between them. 'No wonder kids grow up crazy. A cat's cradle is nothing but a bunch of X's between somebody's hands, and little kids look and look and look at all those X's...''And?''No damn cat, and no damn cradle.”

“No damn cat, and no damn cradle.”

“See the cat? See the cradle?”

“All male writers, incidentally, no matter how broke or otherwise objectionable, have pretty wives. Somebody should look into this.”

“The painter's face curdled with scorn "You think I'm proud of this daub?" he said. "You think this is my idea of what life looks like?""What's your idea of what life looks like?" said the orderly. The painter gestured at a foul dropcloth. "There's a good picture of it," he said. "Frame that, and you'll have a picture a damn sight more honest than this one.”

“Look at him! That's life, according to the medical profession. Isn't life wonderful?”