Father's snoring grows to sound increasingly like a vacuum cleaner in heat.

The English never smash in a face. They merely refrain from asking it to dinner.

My knees could have been stirred with a spoon.

It is possible to eat English piecrust, whatever you may think at first. The English eat it, and when they stand up and walk away, they are hardly bent over at all.

... organized religion, in a dominating business society, can do only one of two things. It can either assure the communicant with uneasy bluster that God Himself likes money -- a theory which convinces nobody -- or it can give him an apologetic, halfhearted invitation to go out and get himself crucified.

This year's blasphemy is next year's liberating truth.

The soup, thin and dark and utterly savorless, tasted as if it had been drained out of the umbrella stand.