James Morrow Quotes

Somehow his grandfather had wrought an honorable and glamorous life from the sea. But that era was gone. The system was dying. Advising a young man to join the United States Merchant Marine was like advising him to go into vaudeville.

What's theodicy?" asked Anthony.
"Hard to explain."
"Sounds like idiocy."
"Much of it is.

To Thomas’s eye, Union Square combined the exoticism of The Arabian Nights with the bedrock banality of American commerce, as if a medieval Persian bazaar had been transplanted to the twentieth century and taken over by Wal-Mart.

—Then there is the final possibility, my favorite.
—Yes?
—The final possibility is that I’m God.
—You’re God?
—Just a theory, but the data are provocative. I mean, look at me. Faceless, shapeless, holey, undifferentiated, Jewish, inscrutable...and a hermaphrodite to boot. Years ago, I told you sponges cannot be fatally dismembered, for each part quickly becomes the whole. To wit, I am both immortal and infinite.
—You’re God? You’re God herself? You?
—The data are provocative.
—God is a sponge? A sponge? There’s not much comfort in that.
—Agreed.
—Sponges can’t help us.
—Neither can God, as far as I can tell. I’d be happy to see some contrary data.

There are none so blind as those who see angels...None so deaf as those who hear gods.

Her libido blazed to life. She smiled, impressed by the party-crashing shamelessness of sex, its willingness to show up anywhere—a funeral, a sermon, a final farewell. This was the way to go out, all right, thumbing your labia at the cosmos.

You see God as an engineer?" asked Urpastor Phelps.
"I don't see God as anything at all."
"An engineer, you said. An incompetent engineer."
"Incompetent, perfect, who knows? God is whatever we agree to pretend God is. God is our image of God.

The Sermon on the Mount—it never ends for you, does it? If somebody kicks your right buttock, turn the other cheek.

Babies are like kittens, Julie, they grow into something much more sinister.

You're not very religious, are you?" said Irene.
"I'm more into gravity.

The wonders of nature, she learned, from wing of bee to sonar of bat to eyeball of baby, were not so much perfect machines as adequate contraptions. If nature bespoke a mind, it was a confused and inchoate one, a mind incapable of locating the optic nerve on the correct side of the retina, a mind unable to accomplish much of anything without resort to jerry-building and extinction.

The universe," says Wyvern, "is a Ph. D. thesis that God was unable to successfully defend.

The man was fat. His belly arrived like an advance guard, heralding the bulk to come, huge shoulders, a surplus chin. His white cassock had settled over his body like a tarpaulin dropped on a blimp.

Hell was not perfect, but it was paradise compared with New Jersey.

Don't believe everything you hear about hell. Next time you run into some anti-hell propaganda, consider the source."
"You inflict eternal punishment on people," Julie countered.
"Merely because it's our job. And remember, we persecute only the guilty, which puts us one up on most other institutions.