“The Indian danced on alone. The crowd clapped up the beat. The Indian danced with a chair. The crowd went crazy. The band faded. The crowd cheered. The Indian held up his hands for silence as if to make a speech. Looking at the band and then the crowd, the Indian said, "Well, what're you waiting for? Let's DANCE.”

“I didn't literally kill Indians. We were supposed to make you give up being Indian. Your songs and stories and language and dancing. Everything. We weren't trying to kill Indian people. We were trying to kill Indian culture.”

“Do you know why the Indian rain dances always worked? Because the Indians would keep dancing until it rained.”

“He looked into the crowd for approval, saw his mother and father. He waved and they waved back. Smiles and Indian teeth. They were both drunk. Everything familiar and welcome. Everything beautiful.”

“Ten little Indian boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine.Nine little Indian boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight.Eight little Indian boys travelling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven.Seven little Indian boys chopping up sticks; One chopped himself in halves and then there were six. Six little Indian boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.Five little Indian boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four.Four little Indian boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three. Three little Indian boys walking in the Zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two.Two little Indian boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one.One little Indian boy left all alone; He went and hanged himself and then there were none.”

“His accelerated path to yogihood hit a dead end when his kundalini exploded in a crowded department store. No one else was injured, but Swami caught an inflection which left him with a permanent East Indian accent.”