Patty Knew, In Her Heart, That He

When I Finally Gave Up Any Hope Of Doing Anything Representative Of The American Family, I Actually Seemed To Have Tapped Into Other People's Weirdness In That Way.

There's A Hazardous Sadness To The First Sounds Of Someone Else's Work In The Morning; It's As If Stillness Experiences Pain In Being Broken.

Integrity's A Neutral Value. Hyenas Have Integrity, Too. They're Pure Hyena.

Each New Thing He Encountered In Life Impelled Him In A Direction That Fully Convinced Him Of Its Rightness, But Then The Next New Thing Loomed Up And Impelled Him In The Opposite Direction, Which Also Felt Right. There Was No Controlling Narrative: He Seemed To Himself A Purely Reactive Pinball In A Game Whose Only Object Was To Stay Alive For Staying Alive's Sake.

Walter Had Never Liked Cats. They'd Seemed To Him The Sociopaths Of The Pet World, A Species Domesticated As An Evil Necessary For The Control Of Rodents And Subsequently Fetishized The Way Unhappy Countries Fetishize Their Militaries, Saluting The Uniforms Of Killers As Cat Owners Stroke Their Animals' Lovely Fur And Forgive Their Claws And Fangs. He'd Never Seen Anything In A Cat's Face But Simpering Incuriosity And Self-interest; You Only Had To Tease One With A Mouse-toy To See Where It's True Heart Lay...cats Were All About Using People