“The catalog showed a man sleeping peacefully while his model-wife read a book in soft but focused light. In real life, however, the light was so intense that the same man would have had to wear sunglasses.”

“Man reading ought to be a man intensely alive. The book ought to be a ball of light in his hands. ”

“Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one's hand.”

“Properly, we should read for power. Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one's hand.”

“Kid, show me a man who doesn't go down on his wife and I'll show you a man whose wife I can sleep with, tonight.”

“Heaven, Kiwi thought, would be the reading room of a great library. But it would be private. Cozy. You wouldn’t have to worry about some squeaky-shoed librarian turning the lights off on you or gauging your literacy by reading the names on your book spines, and there wouldn’t be a single other patron. The whole place would hum with a library’s peace, filtering softly over you like white bars of light…”