“In the cool afternoon the fiend from hell specifically sent to lovers arrived at Janie's ear. Doubt.”

“Janis Joplin is singing with Big Brother in the Panhandle and almost everybody is high and it is a pretty nice Sunday afternoon.”

“If I could live anywhere, I'd live up in the Mountains where it's cool, and far away from everything. I'd live like a hermit and write like a fiend.”

“They plan and they fix and they do, and then some kitchen-dwelling fiend slips a scorchy, soggy, tasteless mess into their pots and pans…So when the bread didn’t rise, and the fish wasn’t quite done at the bone, and the rice was scorched, he slapped Janie until she had a ringing sound in her ears and told her about her brains before he stalked on back to the store.”

“I stand corrected. Afternoons are hard. Mornings are pure evil from the pits of hell,”

“Sincere--that was the hell of it. From a distance, one's adversaries seemed fiends, but with a closer view, one saw the sincerity and it was as great as one's own. Perhaps Satan was the sincerest of the lot.”