“You couldn't get more original than Laura. Laura. Yes, she was an original, all right. One of a kind. Did they break her mold or what, pal? Or...or did it self-destruct? Still, Laura. The one and the only. Such a plain name for a unique cutie. But perhaps my acuity is not without its problems. I ruin everything: a stupid story to be tapped out on my tomb's stone. I ruined even Laura. And an original ruin is rare. Just ask the archaeologist, "Egypt, again?" Just ask me, "Laura, again?" and we'll both respond: "Yes, again and again. And again.”

“It's nice to see you again, Laura.""Thank you, Mrs. T-""No, no, no. Please, my name is-""Mud," I suggested. "Mud Barfbag Taylor. Call her Asshat for short."~Laura, Antonia, Betsy”

“Theoretically there is no absolute proof that one's awakening in the morning (the finding oneself again in the saddle of one's personality) is not really a quite unprecedented event, a perfectly original birth.”

“Laura wanted all of it back, every moment, so that she could live it all over again.”

“It's different up here, you know.""I know," said Laura miserably. "I was -- enjoying myself, that's all."Nick watched her for a moment. "Don't look so tragic about it, Laura. It's not a crime to enjoy yourself, you know.""Yes, it is," muttered Laura, feeling as if she were in some biblical parable, the one where the Lord wreaks vengeance on the stupid girl who is a foolish wanton by removing the last shred of common sense in her brain.”

“Take my advice,” Victor said and Nate’s eyesshifted to him again, “get the girl pregnant. Itworked for me with Laura.” After saying this, hegrinned cheekily.”

“In a nervous and slender-leaved mimosa grove at the back of their villa we found a perch on the ruins of a low stone wall. She trembled and twitched as I kissed the corner of her parted lips and the hot lobe of her ear. A cluster of stars palely glowed above us between the silhouettes of long thin leaves; that vibrant sky seemed as naked as she was under her light frock. I saw her face in the sky, strangely distinct, as if it emitted a faint radiance of its own. Her legs, her lovely live legs, were not too close together, and when my hand located what it sought, a dreamy and eerie expression, half-pleasure, half-pain, came over those childish features. She sat a little higher than I, and whenever in her solitary ecstasy she was led to kiss me, her head would bend with a sleepy, soft, drooping movement that was almost woeful, and her bare knees caught and compressed my wrist, and slackened again; and her quivering mouth, distorted by the acridity of some mysterious potion, with a sibilant intake of breath came near to my face. She would try to relieve the pain of love by first roughly rubbing her dry lips against mine; then my darling would draw away with a nervous toss of her hair, and then again come darkly near and let me feed on her open mouth, while with a generosity that was ready to offer her everything, my heart, my throat, my entrails, I gave her to hold in her awkward fist the scepter of my passion.”