Anonymous, where among the hard-bitten, laid-off-lathe-operator - Jonathan Lethem

I am relaxed. It's just buried under layers of incredulity and panic. But underneath those I'm very relaxed.

We knew it was holy. Every sentence we cherished was sturdy and Biblical in its form, carved somehow by hand-dragged implement or slapped onto sheets by an inky key. For sentences were sculptural, were we the only ones who understood? Sentences were bodies, too, as horny as the flesh-envelopes we wore around the house all day.

He didn't hide his teeth, which were bright yellow, like the van we'd unloaded.