The winter passed as slowly and peacefully as a boa constrictor digesting a valium addict. - Tom Robbins

Louisiana in September was like an obscene phone call from nature. The air — moist, sultry, secretive, and far from fresh — felt as if it were being exhaled into one's face. Sometimes it even sounded like heavy breathing.

I'll never write another novel on an electric typewriter. I'd rather use a sharp stick and a little pile of dogshit.

Funny how we think of romance as always involving two, when the romance of solitude can be ever so much more delicious and intense.