“Now let's go into this pharmacy and get you some god-damn tampons. My treat!”

“Daddy,' my mother asked, 'aren’t we going to run out of gas?'No there’s plenty of god-damned gas.'Where are we going?'I’m going to get some god-damed oranges!”

“You know, I found a gray hair the other day. I almost broke the sound barrier rushing to the pharmacy to get some dye. Beth snorted. Oh please! You're a blonde-no one can see gray hair up there. Now, you get one down under, and then you can panic.”

“I get it now. I have to make good on my promise. To let her go. To really let her go. To let us both go.”

“It ain't that you get religion. Religion gets you and then milks you dry. Won't let you drink a little whiskey. Won't let you make no fat-assed girls grin and giggle. Won't let you do a damn thing except work for what you'll get in the hearafter. I live in the here and now.”

“In the past when I was younger my friends and relations had known what to do with me: some of them used to advise me to volunteer for the army, others to get a job in a pharmacy, and others in the telegraph department; now that I am over twenty-five, that grey hairs are beginning to show on my temples, and that I have been already in the army, and in a pharmacy, and in the telegraph department, it would seem that all earthly possibilities have been exhausted, and people have given up advising me, and merely sigh or shake their heads.”