“He was practically pushing the hot dogs down his throat.”

“This sex thing. We never used to be hung up like this. Nature doesn't give little kids problems except when there's some kind of an accident--like that eight-year-old South American girl that had a baby. But that's practically a mutation, right?”

“The mustard lined his lips. At one point a strand of sauerkraut was smeared against his chin.”

“There was no one else to blame anymore. No Bores or Old Ladies or Nortons, or Assassins waiting at the bridge. And there was no place to hide-no place across any river for a boatman to take us. Our life would be what we made of it-nothing more, nothing less.Baboons.Baboons. They build their own cages, we could almost hear the Pigman whisper, as he took his children with him.”

“In fact, the thing Lorraine and I liked best about the Pigman was that he didn't go around saying we were cards or jazzy or cool or hip. He said we were delightful . . .”

“Be yourself! Be individualistic!' he called out after me. 'But for God's sake get your hair cut. You look like an oddball.”

“Once inside, Dennis almost keeled over from the smell of cooked cabbage. Why was it that any girl he took out had a house with an incredible smell?”