“Oh yes, we're going to brawl, baby. Over you. Again.”

“How long was I asleep?""Over an hour," the Butcher replied."An hour? Surely not.""Aye. You were moaning my name and saying, 'Oh, yes, Duncan, yes, yes. Again, again...”

“And home was as squalid psychically as physically. Psychically, it was a rabbit hole, a midden, hot with the frictions of tightly packed life, reeking with emotion. What suffocating intimacies, what dangerous, insane, obscene relationships between the members of the family group! Maniacally, the mother brooded over her children (her children) … brooded over them like a cat over its kittens; but a cat that could talk, a cat that could say, "My baby, my baby," over and over again. "My baby, and oh, oh, at my breast, the little hands, the hunger, and that unspeakable agonizing pleasure! Till at last my baby sleeps, my baby sleeps with a bubble of white milk at the corner of his mouth. My little baby sleeps …""Yes," said Mustapha Mond, nodding his head, "you may well shudder.”

“Baby, where we're going, you won't need a shirt.”

“Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, you can't have a baby brother, because that would mean that Daddy had sex, and that's never going to happen again.”

“But you can't start over, Only a baby can start over. You and me, Why, we're all that's been.”